


Kindred

by HarvestSunlight



Series: Chronicles of the Hunters [1]
Category: Alien vs Predator (2004), Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predator Series
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Character(s), Alien Culture, Alien Rituals, Bloodlust, Cultural Differences, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, Emotional Growth, F/M, Gender Issues, Genetic Engineering, Hunting, Infertility, It's All About Honor, Misunderstandings, Other, Planet Hopping, displays of dominance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarvestSunlight/pseuds/HarvestSunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was on the summer solstice in the year 2020 that the greatest unknown, next to the meaning of life, was answered. Are we alone? As it happens, we are not, and they have a proposal for us. One we dare not refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It was on the summer solstice in the year 2020 that the greatest unknown, next to the meaning of life, was answered. _Are we alone?_ As it happens, we are not. On that perfectly normal, yet unforgettable summer day, huge gray ships appeared, materializing from nothing, in skies throughout the world. People panicked of course. There was looting and rioting. Everyone looked to their governments and militaries to do something. They didn’t though. There were no attacks launched, no fighter jets scrambled. We learned later that these visitors from another world had already made their existence known to the United Nations and consequently those with their fingers poised over the big red buttons knew not to push them.

The aliens, Yaut’ja as they identified themselves, had covertly managed to eliminate all weapons of mass destruction the world over prior to their rather sudden appearance, even those nuclear warheads Russia had conveniently “misplaced” during the Cold War. We, humans that is, had nothing left with which to attack them, aside from small arms, and what good is a gun against something the size of a city floating a mile up? So once the initial collective freak out was over, we waited to find out which alien invasion movie of the past century would prove most accurate.

In the US, the president got up on his podium, his address broadcast on every medium, and explained the situation to the frightened populace. The Yaut’ja weren’t here to destroy us, they were actually going to help us, they were our friends, on the condition that humans as a whole cooperated and met a few simple demands. It wasn’t said in quite so many words, but the threat was clear: if we don’t do what they want, we can kiss our species goodbye. So what were they going to give us? Technology, apparently. This had the scientists and trigger-happy jarheads of the world salivating. Alien tech, think of the possibilities! I’m sure those in charge of the big guns were hoping for even bigger ones, but the Yaut’ja were far from that stupid. Instead they provided us with medical knowhow that cured cancer, Alzheimer’s and AIDS. They taught us techniques to fix some of the extreme damage we’d done to our environment. And they gave us the means to reach the stars, or at least put us on the right track to do so. It’s not like they handed over one of their ships for reverse engineering. Like I said, they weren’t stupid.

And in return? Nothing so complicated. They simply wanted people. Specifically, two kinds of people. They wanted all the world’s violent criminals. Few had any real problem with this. Why pay taxes to support scum when you can foist them off on someone else? No one really cared what happened to them. It’s not like the faceless masters in the sky would answer if you asked anyway. The other though… The other thing was women. Women. That was a bit harder of a pill to swallow. What could they possibly want just women for? The possibilities weren’t pleasant to contemplate. They didn’t ask for half the population to be handed over or anything. In fact they didn’t even request that the government round up a selection. It was simply to be understood that Yaut’ja males would select females on an individual basis and would contact those females directly. Everyone else just had to stand aside.

There was no explanation as to what would happen to these chosen women. As time passed and we came to terms with the, well… terms, women would simply disappear. Not overnight or out of the blue. There seemed to be some rules to the game we weren’t privy to. A Yaut’ja would make himself known to a woman and after a short period of interaction, sometimes hours, other times days, generally that woman would vanish. They never seemed to take anyone younger than 16 or older than 40. It also became clear that most, _most_ , of these select women were not married and had no children. Of course this lead to a mad rush of shotgun weddings and teenage pregnancies. Parents seemed to think that a ring on their 15 year old’s finger would protect her from the big bad beast. Remember how I said Yaut’ja weren’t stupid? The government put a stop to that nonsense real quick.

Little was known about these strangers, and less was offered. It was a couple weeks after the ships appeared that we got our first glimpse. A ship, smaller than most, landed outside the UN in New York and the world watched with baited breath as the stuff of nightmares disembarked. Except, they weren’t. Certainly they were frightening, but were also surprisingly, scarily human-like. Patterned reptilian skin and claws aside, they walked upright on two legs, had two arms and ten fingers, and something that resembled dreadlocked hair. They appeared to have two eyes as well, though no one knew for certain since they all wore masks and never took them off. Speculation ran wild on why that was. Could they not breathe our air? Not handle sunlight? Were the masks fused to their heads like some crazy Steampunk fantasy? Whatever they hid behind their masks, they had no problem showing off everything else. To a one they were ripped and looked like Amazonian warriors in their skimpy armored outfits, morbidly decorated with skulls. Thankfully none looked human. Perhaps that was only for our benefit though.

The meeting of ambassadors, both ours and theirs, was held behind closed doors, so we only got that quick look on TV as they walked from the ship to the building, and the endless repeats on the news thereafter. Seeing them near humans was a bit of a shock as it drove home how big they were. Not one was shorter than 7 feet and all were muscled and huge. Oddly enough, the tallest in the group seemed female. At least that was what the new so-called “experts” said. Their muscles were a bit slimmer, and they wore chest plates that _maybe_ covered breasts. Honestly, who the hell knew? The fact that aliens were meeting with heads of state in the UN was enough to blow most peoples’ minds.

It took a while, not as long as you’d think though, before the novelty of it all wore off and the presence of the Yaut’ja became yesterday’s news. Humans really do have a short attention span. The prisons were emptied quickly and quietly. There was never a shortage of idiots that went after those that came in public though. It was like a gag-reel of the Darwin awards. Any morons that survived an attempt on a Yaut’ja’s life, and you had to have a death-wish to take one on, were quickly spirited away never to be seen or heard from again. It certainly cleared out a lot of rednecks. They started teaching classes about how to act should you ever come into contact with one of the warriors, which was statistically unlikely. These classes were required for all people and oddly enough were segregated by sex. The Yaut’ja gave just enough info on themselves to confuse the hell out of everyone. There was hardly enough solid info to fill a commercial break.

However, there was one tenet that was universal, that was repeated over and over like a mantra until you heard it in your sleep: _Don’t Fight Back._


	2. Siren's Call

Ri’al crouched casually on a limb, fifty feet above the ground. The sturdy tree afforded him a nice view over the nearby river and woodlands, spotted here and there with open fields. It was not a particularly wild place, having been farmed for centuries, and there were no large creatures to hunt, but after spending several cycles in the dense ooman city some distance away, he needed a chance to clear his mind in a more natural setting. He relaxed his muscles and let his thoughts wander.

He’d come to the Blue Planet, known to the oomans as Earth, on a rather distasteful but necessary errand. Over the last hundred seasons[1] the females of his species had mysteriously become infertile. No matter what the healers and scientists tried, they were unable to find a cure for the affliction. The disease, if that’s what it was, had spared no female, aged or young, Elder or Eta[2], until 15 seasons had passed without a single new pup born. The Yaut’ja faced extinction unless a viable solution for procreation could be found. In the end, it was the Pyode Amheda, _soft meats_ , otherwise known as oomans, which had been the key. That a prey species would be their salvation was simple irony.

Female oomans, though physically much smaller and weaker than Yaut’ja females, were yet similar in structure and type. Their reproductive systems were compatible, and with a little genetic tinkering, could safely gestate and birth Yaut’ja offspring. Clan geneticists had detected some commonalities deep within both species’ DNA which, as impossible and unthinkable as it seemed, suggested a common ancestor. The historians were having a field day with that discovery. It would have caused an upheaval in their society, had it not already been falling apart. Females had always been the dominate sex, dictating culture and law. Both sexes were driven to the hunt, but males did so not just to garner status, but it was a necessity to further their bloodline. Females, being larger than males, sought the strongest and most accomplished sires for their pups. A male’s prowess, his ability to father strong young, was displayed in his collection of trophies and battle scars. The more impressive the skulls gracing his walls, the more females desired his seed.

Now though, the structure of their society, which had held for thousands of seasons, was crumbling. A staggering number of young females, on learning they would never bear pups, chose to take their Last Hunt, dying with bittersweet honor. Most others retreated to female-only sanctuaries, where there were few reminders of what they had lost. Some Elders remained in public to help govern, knowing that the males would tear each other apart without female guidance. Others, females among the ranks of healers and scientists, stayed to help find a solution. It was those females that suggested seeking another species by which to keep their race alive, much as it hurt their pride to do so.

It had been approximately ten Earth years since the Elders of the twelve clans had approached the leaders of the ooman world with a proposition. They had readily agreed to the proposal, which may or may not have been viewed as a genocidal threat. No one felt the need to correct that assumption. In the seasons leading up to that first formal contact, a number of ooman females, of different ages and types, had been cherry-picked from around the small planet and genetic experiments conducted until a viable system for impregnation, gestation and birth was established. The core tenets of their society would not allow for cloning or embryo transfer, thus the ability of ooman women to successfully mate with Yaut’ja males was a key deciding factor. The Council of Elders agreed that oomans would be declared a protected species and no longer hunted, except for the ooman bad bloods, which would be turned over by their own people and relocated to hunting preserve planets. There were still many older warriors who were loath to completely give up a favored prey. Since simply taking the necessary number of females would cause panic amongst the oomans, and likely lead to complications and conflicts, the difficult decision was made to openly contact and interact with the people of Earth, which had not been done since oomans were little more than savages. Being as Yaut’ja are an extremely secretive species, many hours of debate lead to the resolution, which was never wholly accepted.

Unknown to the oomans, the planet was divided into territories, each controlled by one of the 12 clans. The respective clan took the offered bad bloods for their own hunting pleasure and the males of that clan were given exclusive breeding rights to the females found within their territory. Being a matriarchal society, Yaut’ja males were instilled with a deep respect for all females, even prey. As a proud and supremely intelligent species, for whom honor meant everything, they never actively hunted any but healthy males in their prime who were trained for battle or use of weaponry. Only females that took up arms were considered acceptable to hunt. This they’d felt was fair and honorable.

For the last few thousand seasons, since the ooman planet had been discovered, the Yaut’ja had valued the pyode amheda as a prey species. They were unpredictable and cunning, making for an exciting hunt. They also made excellent hosts for the Kainde Amedha, _hard meats_ , the ultimate in challenging prey and the benchmark by which all Yaut’ja hunters became blooded. It had been many seasons since Ri’al had gone on his Chiva, killing three Kainde Amedha and securing his status as a Blooded Warrior, the glyph on his forehead and mask declaring it to all. He was still subject to the whims of his Elders though.

Ri’al stood and stretched, popping a few joints and vertebra. While it had been pleasant to relax in the forest and attempt to reach a state of za’zin[3], he was itching for a good hunt and annoyed with his current chore that superseded it. He had come to this planet, by order of his sire, who just happened to be a clan Elder, to find a suitable ooman female with which to mate and breed pups. He was old enough to have enjoyed a few mating seasons with Yaut’ja females before the infertility plague; to have experienced passionate mating battles and even sired two pups. Unfortunately, both were female and now unable to further their line. As the only living male offspring of his sire, Ri’al faced the unappetizing prospect of mating with an ooman to perpetuate the bloodline. He had spent the last earth week wandering the metropolis known as New York in search of a female that piqued his interest. If he had to breed one, he damn well wanted one he could at least tolerate. While he hadn’t yet mated with an ooman, some of his clanmates had, and boasted the experience could be quite pleasurable. Those were Youngbloods though, who had never had a Yaut’ja female. He could not imagine how one of these pitiful creatures could compare. No, he doubted he’d find much pleasure in the act but it was a necessary means to an end.

He’d hoped the search would be over quickly, and had gone where the concentration of females was high, but he had yet to find any he considered remotely worthy. In the city they wore strange and constricting coverings, painted their faces with unpleasant chemicals, and spoke of only the most inane topics. They were weak and vain, completely unworthy as prey, let alone of breeding quality. He was on the verge of giving up. Only the threats of his sire kept him from simply returning to his ship and leaving this miserable rock to go hunting on some other planet.

Clicking in frustration at his task, he was just about to leap to the ground and return to his ship, prepared to begin the female hunt anew, when a strange sound made him pause. It was singing, ooman singing, and it was steadily heading his way. Yaut’ja could not sing, but he’d become familiar with the ooman practice, through none of the recorded tunes he’d heard in the city compared to this pure sound. Activating his cloak and descending to a lower branch, he curiously waited to see what kind of ooman produced it.

_In the arms of the angel_

_Far away from here_

_From this dark, cold hotel room_

_And the endlessness that you feel_

_You are pulled from the wreckage_

_Of your silent reverie_

_You’re in the arms of the angel_

_May you find some comfort here. **[4]**_

Lia sang to herself as she rode through the woods. It was an old song, one her mother had taught her as a child. Here, alone, as away from civilization as she could easily get, she felt free. Free of the burdens of everyday life that never went away:  marriage, job, money. She cherished this time by herself, with only her silent mount and the towering trees. She was a solitary creature by nature and the necessary daily interactions with other people would wear on her until she felt the pressing need to escape. This was her peace, her way to mediate and recharge. Most days she felt as though the world was closing in around her and she was trapped with no way out.

How had she gotten to this point? 30 years old, married but no children, a job that helped pay the bills but was wholly unfulfilling. She had once dreamed of grand adventures, of visiting remote locales, doing great deeds, being a worthy and admirable person. She had once been an artist, creating beauty from disparate parts. And yet here she was, living an unspectacular life with few prospects of it ever being more. Some days it all felt so hopeless and she could hardly find the motivation to go through the motions of her daily routine. Only these sojourns into the fields and woods on the back of her horse gave her the wherewithal to carry on.

Sure, there were good times. She liked her husband well enough. He was a decent man, though she’d never felt particularly passionate about him. They’d been married five years now and she found her initial interest in him had waned, just as it had with every man prior. Mark was 10 years her senior and had two teenage children from a previous marriage. They were good kids, but they weren’t hers, and she felt no deep emotional connection to them. Mark was willing to have children with her, and she felt that some day she’d want them, but that day had yet to come. She was finally starting to feel the pressure to get on with it, despite her internal reluctance. Perhaps she was being selfish, but she wasn’t ready to give up what little freedom she had just yet. Without children, she at least still had a choice.

Titan cocked one ear to listen to his mistress, the other swiveling back and forth to take in the sounds of the woods. He was large for a horse, standing 18 hands[5]. Lia had rescued him nearly 10 years ago when he was destined for the slaughter house. He was a magnificent animal, with a golden chestnut coat, blonde mane and tail, and flashy white face and legs. Despite his size, he was very sensitive, and the cruel treatment of his early owners had damaged his trust in people. When Lia first saw him, he was a mess, thin and dirty, shaking in fear. Her experienced eye could see the diamond in the rough though. It had taken a lot of time and patience to gain his trust, but she loved the big beast who liked nothing better than to rest his broad forehead against Lia’s chest while she gently stroked his ears.

Twenty feet above, an invisible Ri’al listened, entranced by the ooman’s song. He was surprised when the creature had appeared on the trail sitting atop a large grazer. He recalled from hunts long past that oomans rode this particular animal as a form of transportation, but since they had progressed technologically to the use of mechanized conveyance, he found it odd that this one chose to use a beast of burden. She, he identified it as female by the prominent curve of milk glands on her chest, seemed in no particular hurry, moving at a steady but relaxed walk. The sounds she produced were unlike anything he had ever heard. The cadence of her voice lulled him in a way only mediation previously had. He was intrigued.

 _So tired of the straight line,_  
And everywhere you turn,  
There's vultures and thieves at your back.  
The storm keeps on twisting.  
Keep on building the lies  
That you make up for all that you lack.  
It don't make no difference,  
Escaping one last time.  
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness,  
Oh, this glorious sadness,  
That brings me to my knees **[6]**.

He only understood about half of the words, not yet having put serious effort into learning the dominant language of his clan’s territory. There was a mournful tone to the melody. He wondered what it meant. The female and her mount passed right beneath his perch, oblivious to his presence, and continued down the path. Ri’al wanted to hear more and leapt silently to another tree, his sharp black claws digging into the trunk to support his weight. He followed her in this manner for several minutes before cracking a branch. The song stopped as beast she rode gave a sharp snort and spun to face the noise, ears pricked and nostrils flared, muscles quivering. The female was not unseated by the abrupt movement. She spoke quiet sounds and stroked the beast’s neck while nearby Ri’al held his breath and stayed perfectly still. He might be cloaked, but a ripple in the air could be seen by a keen observer if he moved.  The grazer slowly relaxed its tense posture as the female soothed it.

“It’s ok boy. There’s nothing there. Let’s head home now.”

She lightly tugged on the harness attached to its mouth. With a final snort, the beast lowered its head and allowed its rider to direct it back to the trail. Ri’al released his breath in a huff, cursing himself. _Stupid Youngblood mistake._ Annoyed, he dropped to the ground and made his way back to his ship, grumbling all the way, wanting to kill something. _Ooman’s are prey! And pretty sounds do not a mate make._ _Why am I even here on this pauk’de fool’s errand? Oh right…my sire._

Still, he couldn’t get the intriguing female out of his head though. He hadn’t been able to see much of what she looked like, with a protective helmet on her head and long clothing covering almost every inch of skin. It was autumn, and while the air was crisp, it was not yet cold enough to make the hunter uncomfortable. The Yaut’ja naturally preferred warmer, humid climates, like their home world of Yaut Prime. When not armored, they generally wore only a loincloth and sandals. Finding his cloaked ship in a clearing a short hike from the ooman’s trail, Ri’al punched a code into his wrist computer and a ramp slid down for him to enter.

Being a successful Blooded Hunter, not quite Honored but well on his way, Ri’al had his own fine hunting vessel, just large enough for a lone hunter. Newbloods and Youngbloods would band together in hunting packs after their Chiva, pooling their resources and hunting together. It taught them many necessary skills, such as teamwork, that did not come naturally to Yaut’ja. Once they had reached Blooded status though, most hunters preferred to travel alone, returning to the Clanship only for breeding season or at the decree of the Elders. Stalking thorough the docking bay, he made his way to his weapon and trophy room, stripping off the light awu’asa[7] and mesh shift suit[8] he wore. Proceeding from there to the kehrite[9] to train, and hopefully banish thoughts of the female. Several hours later, he was no closer to inner peace. _C’jit_ he mumbled aloud. With that thought, he redressed, activated the cloak and went to track the ooman.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Yautja season equivalent to four earth years (one year on their homeword, Yaut Prime)
> 
> [2] Eta = servant class
> 
> [3] State of zen, calm, centeredness
> 
> [4] Arms of the Angel – Sarah MacLaclan
> 
> [5] 1 hand = 4 inches
> 
> [6] Arms of the Angel – Sarah MacLaclan
> 
> [7] Armor
> 
> [8] A fishnet-like wire bodysuit that helps maintain temperature.
> 
> [9] Training room, dojo


	3. Stalking

**Chapter 2: Stalking**

Tracking the female was effortless. Despite the darkness, Ri’al easily retraced his steps to the trail and followed the clear footprints of the beast she rode. Mixed with the lingering scent of the animal was a sweet yet spicy essence which could only be hers. To Ri’al it smelled delicious, and that very fact irked him. Through the woods and out into pastureland he followed the scent, until he arrived at a cluster of buildings which he assumed was her home. There was a white, two storey structure with light spilling from several windows. Scanning the other buildings through the filters on his mask revealed a number of different species he recognized as those oomans cultivated for food or kept as pets. While the Yaut’ja were not known to practice agriculture, aside from some hydroponics on the clanships, and hunted the wide variety of raw meats that dominated their diet, they did sometimes keep pets. Prior to the ban on hunting oomans due to their unique breeding qualities, Ri’al had heard of the occasional one being kept as a pet. Not that he ever had, nor anyone in his clan during his lifetime. He’d only ever hunted them, as the multiple small round skulls on his trophy wall could attest.

Ri’al crept closer to the lighted dwelling and peered through a window. Inside he saw a room with lounging furniture, currently occupied by an adult male and two juvenile oomans. The pups were nearly grown. Likely they would leave the home soon. He had not thought the female old enough to have pups this age. Perhaps they were related in some other way. It wasn’t unheard of. He would scan the female for evidence of childbirth when he found her.

While travelling to the Blue Planet, Ri’al had had time to study some of the records on ooman biology and customs. He knew that unlike Yaut’ja society, where the females are dominant, ooman females were typically submissive to males. An idea he found hard to comprehend. Even when ooman hunting was considered legal and good sport, it was frowned upon to kill females or pups. Only in the rare case of a female proving herself a good warrior and worthy prey was killing one honorable. To kill a female otherwise was to be labeled Bad Blood. Consequently, until their recent usefulness was discovered, there had been little need or interest in studying female pyode amehda. Male Yaut’ja were now subject to what amounted to a crash course when preparing to find an ooman to mate.

Dismissing the male and pups, Ri’al walked around the dwelling looking in each window until he found his target. The female was in the food preparation room, chopping something with a knife. Closer now, and without the helmet, he could see she had copper colored hair, though its length was a mystery as it was tied up in a knot. Her features, while strange by Yaut’ja standards were not displeasing. Ri’al couldn’t help noting that her skull was finely formed and would have made a lovely trophy. _Alas._ Obviously without mandibles, she instead had the soft looking fleshy lips, protruding olfactory organ, and narrow forehead of all her species. Ooman eyes were similarly sized and placed to Yaut’ja, but of different colors. Where Ri’al’s were amber shot through with deep burnt orange, the female’s were a blend of green and golden brown. Her figure, while significantly shorter than a Yaut’ja female, was of similar shape and composition. She was of middling ooman height, over 2 noks[1] shorter than himself. Taller would have been preferable, but those females were few and tended to have weak bone mass. He would just have to deal. A quick scan showed her to be in good health, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw no evidence of past pregnancy.

Ri’al watched the way she wielded the blade, seemly comfortable with it, and wondered if she had any fighting skills. Yaut’ja females trained just like males and expected a potential mate to fight them into submission for breeding. Between that and the evidence provided by his trophy collection, she would decide on the worthiest sire for her pup. It made the mating passion all the sweeter. _Paya **[2]**_ he missed that! Oomans were too fragile though, easily broken if bred too aggressively. He’d heard of some being accidently killed. _Just one more drawback on a long list_. Ri’al huffed, wondering yet again what he was doing. He turned and strode purposefully into the dark.

It was a couple weeks later that he saw her again, galloping across a field on her grazer. Frustrated by the whole mating thing, he’d given into temptation and took himself off to a desert planet a few systems away, home to some moderately challenging prey. He was now in a much better frame of mind with a couple new skulls on his trophy wall. Once again he’d attempted to excise the copper-haired female from his mind, but found himself returning to the same woodlands outside the city. Going for a run, he told himself he was just training, but found his feet leading him back in the direction of a particular ooman dwelling. It was there, clinging to the side of a tree on the edge of a large open field that he spied her. She and the large beast moved fast, seemingly as one. At first he thought the animal was running away with her, but as she drew closer he heard her laughing, lips pulled wide and teeth flashing in that odd ooman display of happiness. Strange to think that a similar expression amongst his own kind meant anger and challenge.

As she passed oh so near, he again caught a whiff of her scent, stronger in her joy, and just as enticing. _Could this be the one?_ _Might she be worthy?_ Ri’al mentally compared her to all the other disappointing females he’d seen and decided some more reconnaissance was in order. No doubt it would come to nothing, but he’d at least put in the effort so his sire couldn’t say he hadn’t tried. Dropping from the tree he bounded after the woman and mount, a safe distance behind.

Lia had thoroughly enjoyed her ride. It was a gorgeous fall day, with the trees beginning to turn shades of yellow, orange and red. Speeding across the fields on Titan had felt like flying. It cleared her head and made her heart sing. They had eventually circled back and ridden up to the barn. She dropped from his back and removed his tack, allowing him to graze on the lawn while she brushed off the sweat marks. The grooming was almost as relaxing as the ride. The horses meant so much to her. She’d been riding since before she could walk. Her father had loved horses and had instilled that same love in her. This was the farm she’d grown up on, and which she’d inherited when her father died. At the time, she was in college in New York, studying art and business. Perhaps an odd combination, but she’d wanted a career that allowed her to express her creativity without leaving her starving. Her parents had been divorced since she was quite young and her mother had gone on to remarry, move to the suburbs and pop out some babies. She often felt like her mother resented her since Lia hadn’t become some corporate wife who drove a BMW and lived to throw parties. Instead she lived on her modest farm a couple hours from the city, drove a pickup, and spent most of her life in jeans and boots.

The year the Yaut’ja came, Lia was a junior and just turned 21. Her father had been dead several years at that point, which was a shame as he would have found the whole thing fascinating. Suddenly, she was taking classes on alien etiquette and art just didn’t seem that important anymore. So she retreated to her safe haven, got a safe, boring job and eventually married a safe, not particularly interesting man. It wasn’t that she was afraid so much that the whole world, and hers within it, had shifted so dramatically that she couldn’t wrap her brain around it. Yes, there was fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the creatures, fear that she might be taken. But secretly she was thrilled to know that there was more to the universe. Ten years on, she’d never seen a Yaut’ja in person, even from a distance, and no one she knew, not even the cousin of a friend of a friend had been taken. It was almost too easy to forget that aliens were a reality and an accepted part of life. And now she was stuck in the life she’d retreated to; her tiny, disappointing existence from which she saw no escape. A nudge from Titan stirred her from her thoughts. She needed a hug and he was great for that.

Ri’al was a bit surprised when he watched the female slide from the back of the grazer. Despite having seen her riding twice, it was only once her feet hit the ground that he realized how much the animal dwarfed her. It was large for its species and enormous when compared to the ooman. How did she control such a creature being so small and weak herself? With its head aloft it was taller than him! Not by much, but still! And yet there she stood, completely at ease, running a brush over 2000 lbs of muscle, teeth and hooves that could quite readily crush her. The female did not appear intimidated in the least. _Perhaps that will bode well when she meets me,_ he mused _. Now I’m thinking of meeting her? I must be h’ulij-bpe! **[3]** _ He wasfar from an expert on oomans, but he understood them to be fickle creatures ruled by their emotions. Just moments ago the female was showing every indication of being content and yet now she appeared upset and sought comfort from the grazer, cradling its head to her chest and making soft nonsensical sounds. Ri’al shook his head, convinced he’d never understand females, ooman or otherwise.

So began a routine of watching her each day, attempting to satisfy his curiosity, leaving only to sleep and hunt the native deer for fresh meat. The more he learned the more intrigued he became, causing an internal war over his own inability to get over it. He followed her to her place of work, where she spent the day staring at a primitive ooman computer looking bored. He followed her as she drove her conveyance, conveniently large enough for him to hide, cloaked, in the back of, as she went from place to place. He was fascinated by her interactions with the grazers, the subtle displays of dominance that established her as alpha in their herd. The beasts looked to her for direction and affection. They showed her respect and deference. One young gray female would regularly challenge for dominance by invading the ooman’s space. She would react immediately with a few barked words and advance into the grazer’s face, forcing it backwards until it showed submission. She wouldn’t even strike it. Ri’al was mystified that she showed such power over creatures ten times her size. It brought to mind Yaut’ja females, a comparison he was loath to make.

He crouched on the roof of the structure that housed the grazers, watching her care for them. She fed the creatures large bundles of grass which looked heavy, but she stacked them with a practiced ease, only the bunching of her muscles and the fine sheen of sweat on her brow belying the effort. Ri’al discreetly lifted one to test its weight. A trifle for him, but roughly a third the ooman’s body weight. He was reluctantly impressed. He studied her as she repaired the fencing that contained the grazers one day. She miscalculated a movement and was left with a bleeding gash on her arm. Inspecting the damage, she shrugged it off and completed her task. A Yaut’ja would not react to such a trifling injury. To show pain for something such as that would be a display of weakness, but an ooman? Ri’al had always understood oomans to be frightened of their own blood. It had certainly terrified them during his hunts, a fact he’d used to his advantge. Why then was this ooman not distressed? Strange indeed, and another mark in her favor. The scent of her blood stirred his instincts to hunt. Regretfully he left to find a more suitable outlet for his desire to kill.

Some evenings he watched as she interacted with the male. He had deduced early on that this was her mate, though she did not exude the n’dui’se[4] he would expect of a mated female, at least not one that enjoyed the company of her mate. Lifemates among the Yaut’ja were rare, and typically Elders who had produced their fair share of pups. Between breeding seasons, the males not employed in training or managing clan affairs would planet hop, hunting for glory, status and trophies to impress the females and enhance their chances of breeding. Of course that was no longer the case. Now any male who wanted to breed need only request a permit to select a mate, much to Ri’al’s distaste. He was sure allowing any and all Yaut’ja to breed would lead to a weakened genepool. Having to breed with oomans was already enough weakness. Of course if one just wanted pleasure, there were stables of non-breeding females for that purpose as well. While he’d been tempted a time or two, Ri’al had never partaken. He had felt it beneath him.

Generally, it was frowned upon to select a female already mated to an ooman male, but not unheard of. He’d read a little about ooman mating customs and knew that the act of breeding didn’t necessarily happen between “mates” or even for the purpose of producing offspring, due to ooman females’ perpetual state of estrus. Perhaps the one upside to a ooman mate: no need to wait for the breeding season. As a male, he admittedly liked that idea. And while it was common for oomans to perform a ceremony that designated “lifemates,” the agreement could be easily dissolved. Her “mate” was of little concern to him. The Elders had decreed it necessary that a desired female come willingly, though the definition of “willing” was open to interpretation. Ri’al didn’t want to spend the trip back to the clan ship dealing with a traumatized and hysterical female, or be forced to continually breed with one that must be drugged to accept it. No, he wanted one that was at least cognizant and receptive. He’d not tarnish his honor by forcing himself on one. Prey animal or no, females were still to be respected. He was also unwilling to mate with an unworthy female. He’d not insult his ancestors by corrupting the family line with any more weak blood than was necessitated by the current situation. Those self-imposed restrictions left him with very few options. This copper-haired female was the first he’d found that remotely sparked his interest and shown any worth. So, mated or no, he would take her if he deemed her mate material.

Though he’d found the female’s scent enticing, he had not been convinced he could be aroused by any ooman until one evening several nights after he’d begun shadowing her. It was a day she had not gone to her workplace and had instead labored around her property, the day she’d cut her arm. She’d ridden two of her grazers, repeating patterns and commands in a way that suggested training, and had prepared a meal for her mate and the pups. Later, while the male and pups watched the communication device in the lounge, the female retreated to a bathing chamber, filling the bath with steaming water and lighting candles around the room.

When she slipped the loose robe from her shoulders to puddle at her feet, Ri’al felt his breath catch. Her skin was a pale white, set off by the fiery tone of her hair, which she pulled loose from its perpetual knot to tumble in waves down her back, the ends reaching just above the rounded curve of her rear. Her flesh was firm but soft looking, though he could see the muscles shifting beneath and already knew she was strong for her size. Her milk glands were large and rounded, tipped with pink nipples. Her waist narrowed below her ribs before flowing into wide hips and full thighs. _Good for bearing pups_ , came the thought unbidden _._ Her abdomen was smooth and slightly rounded, far different from the severe definition of Yaut’ja females. In fact, all of her was soft looking compared to his kind. Black tribal markings cascaded from her shoulders down her back, while metal rings adorned her ears and the round divot on her stomach. There was a beautiful scar several inches long across the side of one thigh. Ri’al felt a stirring beneath his loincloth, a sensation he had not felt in some time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] 1 nok = 13 inches
> 
> [2] Paya, the great Huntress, goddess and mother of the Yaut’ja race, consort of Cetanu, the Black Warrior
> 
> [3] crazy
> 
> [4] Mating musk, scent of arousal


	4. Not Quite Prepared

**Chapter 3: Not Quite Prepared**

"How goes the hunt for a mate? I had expected your return by now." Ri'al sat in the control room of his ship staring at a hologram of his sire. He'd been dreading this conversation. To say his relationship with Nrax'i'te was complicated would be an understatement.

"It has been difficult to find a female I consider worthy of the honor of continuing our bloodline."

"A reasonable goal, but you should not pass up the adequate in search of perfection, for you will never find it. No ooman could compare to even the least worthy of our females." At least in that they agreed.

"You speak truth, Honored Elder. I have, however, identified a possible candidate. I have watched her for a dozen cycles, and have made the decision to initiate contact."

"A dozen cycles! You should be halfway back to the clanship by now! What possible reason could you have for studying one for so long? There cannot be so much to learn about an ooman to justify such a waste of time." Ri'al bit back a growl. It's not like he'd wanted to "waste his time" on this endeavor.

"I beg to differ, Honored Elder. I do not wish to sully our bloodline with a poor choice made without adequate consideration."

The Elder huffed. "Fine, but I expect you to return as soon as possible with your 'worthy' ooman to begin the modifications. I want a suckling from our line by next season."

"Understood, Honored Elder."

Ri'al tapped a button, severing the connection. With a sigh he leaned back and stared at the ceiling. Their bloodline was the root of the problem. For many generations their line had been known for producing exceptional females. Huntresses that were intelligent, well formed and always excelling in the hunt. Females that every male desired. Females that had their pick of the elite to sire their pups. Except now all those females were barren and there were virtually no males to pass on their genes. Nrax'i'te had sired many pups, but Ri'al was the only male still standing. The others had all gone to the Halls of Cetanu[1]. That left just father and son to perpetuate what was considered one of the strongest bloodlines in their Clan. Nrax'i'te was hoping their prowess in producing females would continue, even with an ooman, thus bringing them great honor and status with the next generation. Except, he was currently unwilling to do so himself. He'd hunted oomans for too long to entertain the idea of breeding one, demanding instead that Ri'al fulfill the duty.  _Hypocrite._

The Elder was right though. He'd dallied far too long, seeking any excuse to get out of a role he knew he had no choice but to accept. Procrastination would only get him so far, and now the gig was up. He'd watched the copper-haired female far more than necessary; had long established that she was a healthy and worthy-enough specimen. It was time.

Lia was working in the barn when she felt it again, that sensation of being watched. The kind that raises the hair on the back of your neck. It had been a regular occurrence of late. She'd find the horses on edge for no apparent reason, or the dog barking at an empty tree. She tried to dismiss it as her imagination run amok, but just couldn't shake the eerie feeling that eyes were on her. She glanced around and seeing nothing, shook her head and walked back to the stall she was mucking. Mark was gone for a few days on business and the kids were back with their mother. She was alone. No sense in freaking herself out.

Ri'al had overheard the male ooman mention he'd be leaving for a few days, which provided the perfect opportunity to introduce himself to the female and initiate courting. If he'd been a Youngblood, and she unmated, he'd have declared his intentions in the typical fashion by presenting her with a favored trophy and carving his personal sigil on her door. This situation was more complicated though, and required a degree of finesse he doubted any Youngblood possessed. It was a challenge worthy of his status.

The female had been working in the structure that housed the grazers, though they were all currently out in the confined grass field. She had come to the doorway a moment ago and looked around as though she'd heard something, but just shook her head and went back inside. Striding silently into the structure he saw her in one of the box shaped rooms, singing to herself. He really did like those sounds she made. Ri'al took a deep, fortifying breath and deactivated his cloak. When he was within a few nok of her, he spoke …

Lia was humming to herself as she mucked the stall when suddenly a strange, deep voice right behind her pronounced the word " _Ooman_." She squawked in fright, swinging around, pitchfork in hand, and managed to clobber the giant "man" in front of her right in the head. He stumbled back a step in surprise before emitting a loud roar and lunging forward to pin her to the wall by her neck, feet dangling two feet off the ground. She struggled, fingers grasping and pulling at the giant hand that held her aloft, while staring into the blank eyes of a metal mask. As she fought to breathe she felt the void closing in…

Ri'al, acting on instinct to the sudden and unexpected attack, had grabbed the female by the neck and thrown her up against the wall. She struggled, to no effect, attempting to release herself from his iron grip. He could feel the blood pounding in her veins, see her gasping for breath, as he growled in anger. Just as she blacked out from lack of oxygen, he got a hold on himself and dropped her as though he'd been burned. Her seemingly lifeless form slumped to the ground.

 _C'jit! What have I done! I'm supposed to greet her not kill her!_ Ri'al immediately clicked through his vision settings to check that her heart was still beating and neck not broken before scooping her up and carrying her outside. There was a picnic table under a nearby tree and he gently laid her on it. She was so fragile, so easy to break, and that's exactly what he'd done!  _I'm a pauk-de moron._ Pulling off his mask, he bent over her to check her breathing. The color was starting to return to her face. Unable to resist, he gently ran the back of his knuckles over her cheek, marveling at the softness.

Lia gasped, sucking in the air her lungs had been denied. Her head was throbbing.  _What the hell just happened?_ She felt a gentle touch on her cheek punctuated by a light purr.  _Hmm, kitty..._ Moaning at the sudden rush of blood, she cracked her eyes, blinking a few times to clear her vision and found herself staring up into a pair of amber colored orbs.  _Oh,_   _how beautiful,_ she thought before taking in the broad speckled brow, surrounded by boney ridges, with tube like "dreadlocks" framing the whole. Below the beautiful eyes, instead of a nose and lips she saw teeth, and tusks, and … mandibles?  _That's not my cat!_ She squealed, sitting bolt upright, promptly cracking her skull into the larger one above her.

"Owww!" she whined loudly, throwing a hand to her forehead, registering a pained growl far too close for comfort. She squealed again and backpedaled, finding herself a moment later in an undignified heap on the ground. "Motherfucker that hurt…" The throbbing in her head had morphed from dull to acute and she brought her fingers up to feel a tender lump forming above her left eyebrow. Gingerly opening her eyes once again she saw… feet. But what feet! Encased in a strange set of leather and metal sandals were four large gray toes, each tipped with a very sharp looking black claw, a fifth dewclaw-like toe at the heel. Her eyes widened as they traveled slowly up powerful looking calves, where spotting in lighter and darker gray began, to large knees and muscular thighs bigger around than her waist. She got no further before a giant, human-shaped, yet completely inhuman hand, also adorned with sharp black talons, reached down and hovered in front of her face. She stared at it owlishly. The fingers were dark gray fading into a paler palm. The skin looked vaguely reptilian.

"Ooman…," the gravelly voice trilled, startling her from her reverie. She managed a squeak while her heart pounded somewhere in her throat.  _I know what he is. It's one of them!_   _That's what they're hiding under the masks!_   _Wait, did he just speak English?_  A face bent down to peer at her. A terrifying face that she'd never imagined to see in person. She stared, frozen, at the fangs and appendages that seemed mere inches away.  _That class in school_ so _did not prepare me for this._

"Help." The mouth moved and shocked her from her petrified state. Her eyes flashed up to amber ones. They really were beautiful. Black pupils surrounded by liquid amber that faded to a darker orange, the whole flecked with pale gold. Unlike anything she'd ever seen. Getting lost in them she could see a fathomless intelligence … and concern? "Help," he spoke again, moving the giant hand closer to her own.  _It's ok. It's going to be ok. They don't hurt women. He's not here to kidnap me and take me away on his spaceship to do whatever it is they do…_

Swallowing another squeak, not trusting herself to make anything but humiliating noises, she placed her hand in the larger one, which was surprisingly soft, very warm, and completely huge compared to her own. It closed gently, as if her appendage were made of glass, slowly pulling back and drawing her to her feet like she weighed nothing, which, considering his muscles, was probably the case. Out from under the table, she could finally take him all in. Her eyes traveled over a chiseled chest, 8-pack abs, biceps the size of watermelons, all in varying shades of gray, spotted here and there, and criss-crossed with an assortment of scars. The black dreadlocks, each thicker around that her finger and adorned at random with metal cuffs, hung to his elbows, framing massive shoulders. The entire package was undeniably impressive.

A curious sounding trill grabbed her attention and snapped her eyes back to his.  _Shit, how long have I been staring? He's still holding my hand! Ack!_

"Umm… thank you," she said attempting to extricate her hand and step back, only to have her butt hit the edge of the table. Her heart was still pounding in the vicinity of her tonsils, sending copious amounts of blood rushing to her head. Suddenly the whole situation was too much and she cracked.

"What the HELL?! You scared the crap out of me!" The being in front of her looked taken aback, dropping her hand and eliciting a low growl. "And what's with the growling? You're the one who hurt ME!"

He may be huge, w _hat is he, nearly eight feet?_ But she didn't tolerate any shit from her horses, who at least outweighed him, and wasn't about to take any from this alien that had appeared from thin air and tried to strangle her. Even if he could kill her before she could blink. Snap her neck like a twig…nope, not happening. She stared up at him, neck craned, intending to give him a piece of her mind, an oncoming migraine fueling her sudden anger, when a wave of dizziness rolled over her and she wobbled. Immediately his hand was there to steady her shoulder.

"I need to sit down."

She turned and plopped bonelessly onto the picnic table bench. Waiting for the ground to stop spinning, she massaged her temple and poked at the swelling.  _Going to need to ice that._  Vertigo subsiding, she steeled herself to look at him again. Meeting his eyes, she found they still held that look of concern, along with curiosity and what she would swear was amusement.  _I'm just going to ignore the crazy scary parts of his face for now._

"Didn't your mother teach you not to sneak up on women with pitchforks?"

He cocked his head. "Not mean to … scare." He reached a hand toward her forehead, but she flinched back, not at all comfortable with those claws near her eyeballs, causing him to withdraw it, amber eyes looking just a bit disappointed. "Not mean … to hurt."

"Yeah, well… Hey, I didn't crack that big head of yours when I hit you, did I?" He cocked his head again and produced an amused chirping click, before shaking it, dreadlocks swinging.

He honestly couldn't imagine their first meeting going worse, between the blows to the head and him assaulting her. Miraculously things seemed back on track now. The female wasn't hysterical; no screaming or leaking eyes. He could tell from her scent and the rapid pace of her heart that she was still frightened of him, but it wasn't an irrational, escape by any means possible, fear. She had even shown backbone when she yelled at him, her anger reminding him yet again of a Yaut'ja female. A very tiny one. Lucky for him she wasn't, as a Yaut'ja female would have spilled his blood by now for attacking the way he had. It was going to be an uphill battle to view this creature as something other than prey.  _Why does she show concern for my wellbeing?_   _I don't think those texts I read prepared me for this at all._

They continued to stare at each other, neither knowing what to say. He noticed that her green and brown eyes were ringed with dark gray, the same shade as his skin, and framed with delicate hairs. The small tufts of fur above them were a few shades darker than the rest of her hair. A short scar met the outside corner of one in a dash. Sunlight was glinting off the metal rings in her ears, four on one side, three on the other. She broke eye contact first.

"So, do you have a name?" He mulled over whether to tell her. By rights she should address him as Honored Warrior, but oomans knew nothing of such etiquette nor had any concept of what that designation meant. It only then occurred to him how much effort he would have to expend in training her. He certainly couldn't have her behaving like a savage on the clanship. This whole thing was far more of a commitment than he was really prepared to make. He was going to have to feed and clothe her. Teach her how to behave. Escort her to the healers as they modified her DNA.  _Ugh, this is going to be so much work._ Returning to the issue at hand; he should not have even spoken to her before making a formal decision to claim her, but he was determined to have some interaction before sealing the deal. What could it hurt for her to know?

"Ri'al," he stated after several heartbeats. He was silent for so long she's almost believed he didn't have one, or didn't understand English as well as she'd thought. His voice was so deep and gravelly Lia barely caught the spoken sounds around the click in the middle.

"Ree…awl. Ree…all." He nodded his ascent. He pointed at her chest.

"Me? My name is Lia."

"Lee'yaa," He added a click in the middle. "L'ya." It was a nice name, simple and easy to pronounce. At least he wouldn't have to think of a new one for her. He wondered how attached ooman's were to their names and if she'd have put up a fight over having hers changed. It was hard to know how they would react in any situation, and there just wasn't enough recorded data, aside from hunts, to be helpful. Maybe he should write all this down.

"Umm… can I get you something to drink?" Yes, very unpredictable creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Yaut'ja afterlife, where those who died honorably in the hunt go.
> 
> This is kind of how I picture Ri'al looking: mangrasshopper.deviantart.com/art/Fifth-Breed-339875170


	5. An Alien Walks into a Bar

**Chapter 4: An Alien Walks into a Bar**

Seriously, what does one do with an alien that comes calling at tea time? One that had just accidently tried to kill you. Fuck if she knew. So she offered him a drink. Seemed as good an idea as any. The big male was giving her an odd look, like he didn't know what to make of her.  _Try being in my shoes, buddy._  Maybe it was that short human attention span thing, or maybe oxygen depravation had screwed with her self preservation instincts, but she felt her fear of him rapidly receding. She just honestly didn't think he wished to harm her. Of course, that might prove to be a fatal line of reasoning. That said, what  _did_  he want with her?

"So, uh, is there something I can help you with? Need directions?" She asked as she walked toward the house, he following silently behind.

"H'ko," came the rumbling reply.  _Hmm, alien speak._

"That means…?" She glanced over her shoulder and he pointedly shook his head. "Not lost then. Something else?" She was married and on the older end of the age spectrum. He couldn't possibly be interested in disappearing her, right? The whole situation had her poised on a knife's edge of terror and exhilaration, like the split second when you dive off the bridge and have a moment of panic that the bungee cord isn't tied, even though you'd checked it seconds before.

Ri'al debated what to tell her. He didn't think coming right out and saying he was evaluating her as mate material was the best approach. It was dishonorable to lie, though. She was looking at him expectantly. "Want to learn oomans," he ground out. Strictly speaking, that wasn't a lie.

"You want to learn about humans?" She sounded skeptical. He made a mental note of the sentence structure. So much easier to learn this way. All things considered, she was the first ooman he'd ever actually had a conversation with, or even spoken to, that didn't involve him tormenting them into a chase. When you looked at it that way, he wasn't doing  _that_  bad.

"Sei'i. Yes."

They'd reached the back door that lead into the kitchen. Lia walked though, figuring he'd follow. He bit back a growl that she had turned her back on him yet again. It was highly insulting, but it was too much to expect an ooman to know better. He'd train her properly later. Ri'al had never been in an ooman dwelling before. He had to duck quite a ways to get through the door. Luckily, being an old house, it had high ceilings. They had entered into the food preparation room. To the left was a wood table and chairs, which were far too delicate to support his weight. On the right was a U-shaped counter with storage compartments and various equipment he was unsure of the uses. It was surreal, like going back in time. How did one live like this? The female, Ly'a, leaned on the work-surface, appraising him.

"So what shall it be?" He cocked his head, confused at what she was asking. "To drink? I've got water, lemonade, juice, alcohol." Alcohol he knew was the weak ooman version of  _c'ntlip_. Water would be the better choice. Not that he was thirsty, but it would be rude to refuse the offering of a female. Then again, she wasn't a Yaut'ja, not even a mate, so there was no reason he had to indulge her. Could one even  _be_  rude to an ooman? Their society was so primitive, would she even recognize an insult? Still, she might very well become his mate, and he'd hate to look back on their meeting and think he behaved poorly. Well, more so than he already had, eyeing the bruises forming about her delicate neck.

"Jud'ha. Water."

Lia nodded and went to the sink to fill a glass. "You know, I'm not sure I'm the best person to represent my species. Princeton University isn't all that far from here. They're all kinds of smart over their. One of the top three universities in the country. My Dad went there and he was brilliant." Ri'al pondered that statement. He believed "Dad" was a term for sire. If he understood her correctly, her sire was of above average intelligence by ooman standards, but was no longer living. Good. That meant she would produce gifted pups and there was one less male in her life he had to deal with.

"H'ko. You teach." His voice was so deep and rumbling it was a challenge to understand him. Granted she was totally blown away that he knew English at all. She supposed it made sense. They'd have had to communicate with the government when they first showed up, so it would stand to reason that they understood and could at least sort of speak the language. Mathematics may be the universal language but political types were too stupid to have handled aliens communicating in binary code. She debated adding ice to the glass for a moment before foregoing the idea and pushing the glass across the counter in his direction. She still wasn't ready to be near those damn claws.

"What do you want to know? I'm no expert in science or technology. I replaced the keyboard in a laptop once, but beyond that I could break a computer just by being in the same room with it." He looked at her like she had two heads.  _Damn I've got to develop a filter._ "So does that mean I can ask you questions too? I promise I won't ask for any super secret details or anything, it's just that we know so little about you guys."

This female was very confusing. Ri'al kicked himself once again for not studying the language more. Taking the glass, which was incredibly small, he gulped it like a shot. Returning it to the counter, he nodded his head. "Some question." Lia barely repressed a squeal of delight. This was by far the coolest thing that had ever happened to her and she was determined to get the most out of it. She'd no doubt be living vicariously through this experience for the next ten years. "Please, come. We can talk in the living room."

They entered the other room and were immediately assaulted by a loud howl and the scrabbling of claws on the wood floor. Lia dove across the room to wrap her arms around a brown and white blur while Ri'al dropped into a fighting crouch, arms and mandibles flared, roar of challenge bubbling in his throat. The female was on the floor restraining what he recognized as an ooman pet species, known as canids. From previous experience, he knew these animals could be trained to attack and aid in hunts. He dialed the roar back to a low growl.

"Please, please stop!" She gave him a pleading look. "Maybelle, stop. It's ok. This is our guest. I am so sorry Ri'al! She doesn't mean anything by it. She's old and half blind and deaf." The animal was relaxing as she soothed it. Ri'al was still not convinced and, though straightening his posture, remained tense. Lia stood as well, though she kept a hand on the canid's collar. It was no longer howling, but maintained a low growl. He hissed at it in return.

"Why don't I just put her outside…" Lia tugged the dog along and pushed her out the back door. On returning to the living room, she found Ri'al wandering about, examining items on the shelves and walls, looking utterly out of his element. She stifled a giggle and leaned against the door frame, watching, glad for the chance to study him. He was  _so_  tall, the spiky crown of his head nearly touching the ceiling. His back to her right now, she couldn't help feeling momentarily indignant that he must think her about as threatening as a gnat, but it allowed her a better look at his hair. She wasn't convinced they were dreadlocks, not in the sense that humans had them, but instead each thick appendage looked like a single "strand" of his hair. They were a glossy solid black and decorated, seemingly at random, with cuffs; some simple, some carved, in a variety of metals.  _I wonder if he'd let me touch them? Getting off track, Lia._ Banishing the thought, it would be just like her to start an interstellar war because she wanted to feel up and alien's hair, she turned her attention to what he wore, little as there was.

Covering his whole body, wrists to ankles to neck, was a fishnet like material she couldn't fathom the purpose of. Aside from the sandals, his calves were encased in gladiator like shin guards extending over the knee. He wore a short leather loincloth that barely covered his  _extremely tight_ ass, with a heavy metal utility belt and armored codpiece that hung to mid-thigh. There were all kinds of strange items strapped to the belt and she itched to ask their purpose. On his wrists were bulky bracers, one of which appeared to contain a computer. Parts of his shoulders and chest were screened by armored plates, though the grooves of his pectoral and abdominal muscles were clearly visible. Around his neck was a thick metal collar. The metal mask, which had saved his head from her pitchfork, currently hung off the belt, blank eyes staring at her impersonally. Every item he wore was simple, but beautifully etched with angular tribal designs and glyphs. A necklace of tiny skulls, beads and strange feathers hung around his neck. She heard a chittering sound and realized she was busted. A deep blush crept up her cheeks at having been caught staring yet again.

Ri'al knew the female was appraising him and subtly postured himself to give her the best view. She was so entranced that he couldn't help but laugh, then was delighted at the way heat and color moved up her pale skin from chest to face. Due to a unique retinal structure, Yaut'ja saw in a hybrid of visible light and infrared, allowing them to see both color and heat. Ri'al found it fascinating to watch her emotions play across her flesh in both tone and temperature. If she'd been patterned like a Yaut'ja it wouldn't have been as noticeable, but with her pale monotone skin it was clear as day. Taking pity on her embarrassed state, Ri'al pointed at a round wood and leather object on the shelf he was perusing. "What this?"

Lia, happy for a change of topic, stepped up beside him and lifted the item off the shelf. "It's a drum, from the Masai in Africa. They're a tribe of warriors who have refused to give up their traditional ways for the modern world. They're also really tall. Actually, that's kind of like you, right? Sort of?" Ri'al simply grunted. He'd heard of the dark-skinned people on the landmass ooman's called Af'rika. Some were well respected as honorable warriors, perhaps this tribe of which she spoke. Many, many others clashed constantly and committed atrocities against their own kind. It had been a favored hunting ground of his friend Kra'buk.

"Why you have?"

"When I was a child, my parents loved to travel, and they would bring me gifts from all these exotic places. They went on a safari in Kenya one year and brought this back for me. I've always wanted to go there, but have never been able to afford the trip." She looked down, absently tapping the drum with a fingernail.

There she goes again, Ri'al thought, with the wild change in emotions. It would take getting used to. He wondered then at her age. She spoke as if this had happened in the distant past. He could tell she was young, though certainly of breeding age. He knew ooman lifespans were substantially shorter than Yaut'ja, necessitating that they mature quickly. "How old you?" Lia's eyes snapped back to his. She appeared to be considering her answer.

"You know," she smiled, "it's generally considered rude to ask a woman her age." Interesting, humans  _did_  have a concept of impropriety. He watched her shoulders drop in a sigh. "I suppose there's no reason not to tell you. I'm 30." Ri'al's browridges rose. He mentally did the math, translating Earth years into Yaut seasons. She was just seven seasons old! Now he felt ancient. At that age he was still a bouncing suckling in the care of his Bearer.

When he looked surprised, at least she thought he looked surprised, he could be looking bored for all she knew, Lia retorted with "Well how old are you?" Like her, Ri'al appeared to be contemplating his answer.

"78 seasons."

"Holy crap, you're old!"

"314 ooman years." Lia felt the blood drain from her face. Ri'al now looked indignant. "Not old. In prime. Am Blooded Warrior. Soon be Honored." Lia was still stuck on the 314 years old part.  _Just how long do these guys live?!_  She completely missed the rest of what he'd said, which was good since it was more than he should have told her.

Knowing she could spend all day contemplating the implications of that revelation, Lia shook herself and looked him up and down once more. "You're, uh, remarkably well preserved for three hundred." That was the understatement of the century. Human men would kill for a body like that. His muscles had muscles. Believing her to be complimenting his physique, Ri'al preened a bit and purred, causing Lia to elicit a giggle.  _Male ego is universal._

She moved away from him and curled up in a club chair. "You're welcome to sit," she said, gesturing at the couch. Ri'al eyed it dubiously, not convinced that anything of ooman construction would bear his weight. Still, she offered. He gingerly sat on the cushioned piece of furniture, which groaned in protest but held. Leaning forward, elbows propped on his knees, he observed the female before him.

It was disconcerting, the way he was staring at her. Lia was at a loss for what to say. Thus far he'd proven not to be much of a conversationalist. Whether this was due to his nature, or simply his imperfect grasp of her language, she wasn't sure. "So…what else would you like to know? You can't have come all this way just to ask my age." Making conversation with strangers had never been a problem for her, but what on earth was she supposed to talk to him about? The weather? Actually that wasn't a bad idea. "Is your planet a lot like Earth? In all the pictures I've seen of Yaut'ja, none of you are ever wearing a lot. I'm guessing it's not too cold? No snow or anything?"

The female was nervous. She was trying to fill the silence with meaningless chatter. Until she was safely stowed on his ship, he could not tell her anything else of significance about the Yaut'ja. The Elders had decreed it so. Instead, he would distract her with questions about herself. It would be beneficial to know more about her, identify anything of importance that might sway his rapidly solidifying plan to take her as his mate. "Male here, is mate?" He already knew the answer but wished for her to confirm it.

"Mate? You mean my husband? How do you know about him?"  _C'jit_.

"Smell. Scent of male here." That was close. "No pups?"

"Pups?" She looked increasingly confused.

"Offspring."

"Oh. You're asking if I'm married with kids. I'm married. My husband's name is Mark. He has two kids, but they were before me, with a different woman. He was married once before but they got divorced."

That confirmed his earlier theory. "How long?"

"Five years." Hmm, just over one season. Her attachment could not be very strong then. "Are you married? Uh, mated?" He was pleased with her interest in him.

"H'ko. No mate. Two pups only."

"You have kids? Did you have a mate? Did something happen to her?" Lia slapped a hand over her mouth. "I am so sorry. I shouldn't have asked that, implied anything, that's really personal, please just ignore me…"

Ri'al huffed in amusement at her flustered state, again enjoying the play of heat and color on her skin. "Yaut'ja different." She slumped, looking relieved.

"Why no pups?"

"I…I just haven't. Not that I don't want kids. I think I want kids. No, I do. I just don't want them yet. Some day. Just, not yet." She was squirming in her seat, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. He filed that away for later consideration. He wasn't sure why, but pleased him that she had not borne offspring to an ooman male. Jealously was virtually unknown amongst Yaut'ja. Females chose whom they wished, and the males need just show up. If a female you desired chose another, then you'd work that much harder to impress her the next season. Battles amongst males, for any number of reasons, were common, but it was dishonorable to challenge a male for simply being selected by a particular female. Prior to the necessity of breeding ooman females, there had been no concept of a female "belonging" to a male. Circumstances though, had necessitated a Sea Change in their philosophy. Ooman females held a new, unique, level of status in the clan. They were certainly not afforded the rights that female Yaut'ja enjoyed. Yet, they were necessary for the survival of the species, and thus deserving of respect. Each male was responsible for his chosen ooman female; he provided and cared for her, thus it was only fair that he have exclusive right to breed her, to receive a return on his investment in the form of pups from his bloodline.

Ri'al stood abruptly, startling Lia who jumped to her feet as well. "Are you leaving?"  _Why is he leaving?! I don't want him to leave yet! I have ten million questions I need the answers to!_  Ri'al nodded sharply and walked toward the exit, Lia scampering in his wake. It took him a moment to figure out the doorknob before he strode out into the cool evening air.

"Will you come back?" Ri'al looked at her, head cocked.

"Sei-i." And then he was gone. Two steps and he disappeared with an electric crackle. She stared, wide eyed, at where he'd been.  _Well that was unexpected_. She realized she didn't ask when he'd return. She hoped it would be soon.  _What am I getting myself into and why am I so completely ok with it?_ With a mental slap, she turned back to the house, off to find aspirin and an ice pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you predator purists will probably rip me a new one, but the whole infrared vision thing just never made sense to me. I won’t get into it here, but I’m happy to debate my reasoning by PM. In any case, if Xenomorphs can be the most vicious killers in the universe with no eyes, then who’s to say Yaut’ja can’t have tandem vision? So there.


	6. Push Me, Pull You

**Chapter 5: Push Me, Pull You**

He should not have left like that. He certainly shouldn’t have activated his cloak in front of her. The female was getting under his skin and it unnerved him. She confused him, intrigued him, challenged him. He’d thought this process would be simple. He’d identify an ooman, follow the contact protocol, lure her on to his ship and they’d be gone. He would need speak with her only when necessary. She would admire and respect him as an outstanding specimen of a Blooded Warrior and would gladly accept the honor of carrying his seed. He’d not expected this sudden…want. This desire to learn more about her. This unforeseen need to discover her inner thoughts. This itching in his hands to run them over her skin that just… wouldn’t… go… away.

Time for some objective advice. He punched a familiar designation into the holographic communicator.

“Gkaun’yte, Mei’hswei!”

“Greetings to you as well, Brother.” Syra’kai was Ri’al’s hunt brother and his closest friend. Their bearers had been distantly related and as pups they were inseparable. Born in the same season, they had spent most of their unblood years in training together as well. Syra’kai had developed an affinity for technology, and while still an excellent Blooded Hunter, spent a good deal of his time engineering new devices on the Clanship. Once or twice a season they’d meet up to go hunting together. Syra had a unique sense of humor, and while Ri’al was more often than not the butt of his jokes, Syra never failed to improve his mood.

“Still on the Blue Planet, I see. Need me to come put you out of your misery?”

“Yes, but I suspect Nrax’i’te would send you to Cetanu to bring me back.”

“Come now, I know that old bastard has you by the balls, but it can’t be  _that_  bad.”

“You have no idea.”

“It’s a shame you can’t hunt pyode amedha while you’re there. Well, I suppose you are hunting, just a more permanent kind of prey.”

“You’re turn will come, pauk-de.” Syra’s laughter was broadcast throughout the control room as his image shook with mirth.

“Not a chance of that. You won’t catch me with my cock in an ooman. Unlike you, I’ve got plenty of blood brothers and pups that can do the deed.” Ri’al grumbled in annoyance. It was true. There were nearly a dozen other males of Syra’kai’s bloodline. “So did you pick one yet?”

“A mate? I thought I had.”

“It turn you down? You really shouldn’t give it the option. Just get it on your ship. Once you’re off planet there’s not much it can do.”

“No. I said I wanted an agreeable female and I meant it. I’ll not trick her. Either she comes willingly or not at all.”

“That’s asking a lot, Brother. Are oomans even smart enough to make such a decision?”

“This one is.” Even from their single interaction, he sensed Ly’a’s deep capacity for knowledge and understanding. He found himself far too concerned that she might reject him. It was not a feeling he enjoyed.

“So you  _have_  chosen. I don’t see the problem.”

“I haven’t asked her yet.”

“Why the pauk not? I know how picky you are. Remember our fifth breeding season?” Ri’al grunted, not wanting to remember. He’d been so selective about which females he’d pursue that he ended up with none at all. “If you’ve decided on this one, then get to it.”

“It’s strange. Everything is so different from what I expected. She’s so different.”

“How so?”

“Believe it or not, she reminds me of one of our females.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you.”

“For an ooman she is strong, feisty, intelligent, surprisingly attractive…” Ri’al’s thoughts wandered again to her soft skin and fiery hair.

“That’s it; I’m coming to get you. You’ve obviously caught some ooman disease and it’s gone to your brain.”

Ri’al laughed. “I promise you Brother, I am fine. I will begin my return shortly with my new mate.” He wouldn’t entertain the thought of her refusal. He could sense the stirrings of her attraction. She would jump at the chance to belong to him.

“You’d better. So this female of yours, does she have a name?”

“Ly’a…”

While Ri’al was making his call, Lia was answering one of her own.

“Hey, honey. How’s DC?” Mark would generally call her each night when he was out of town.

“Brutal. I was on my feet all day at the conference and then had to attend this unbelievably dull reception with Bruce.”

“Sorry to hear that. Does the hotel have a spa? Maybe you should book a massage.”

“Much as I’d like to, I doubt I’ll have time.”

“One shouldn’t  _make_  time for massages. They’re a necessity of life. Like chocolate.”

“Too true. How was your day?” It was on the tip of her tongue to gush about meeting a Yaut’ja, inviting a Yaut’ja into their house, having a Yaut’ja ask her to teach him about humans. But something stopped her. Nothing specific, just a vague unease, a little voice in the back of her mind that whispered to keep it to herself.  _For now_.

“Same old. Went to the feed store. Mucked the barn. Vacuumed. You know, domestic stuff.”

“Still sounds better than my day. In any case, I’m beat. I think I’m going to crash. Need to be up early tomorrow.”

“Ok. Sleep well.”

“Love you.”

“You too.”

She hung up. Every time she said those words she felt a small twist in her gut. She loved him, she really did, but it no longer felt like she loved him enough. She was playing a part, and Mark was the one who was going to suffer for it in the end.

_Why didn’t I tell him?_  The little voice had no answer.

She’d just climbed out of her truck when Ri’al dropped out of a tree not ten feet away, causing her to shriek in fright once again.

“Dude, you have got to stop doing that!” The warrior chittered, obviously considering himself quite amusing. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.” Somehow she knew that scaring the crap out of her would never get old for him. Today he was wearing his mask, which gave him a less scary, yet more intimidating presence, if that made any sense. It also made it far too easy to focus on his body instead of his face.  _Mind out of the gutter, Lia._

“You late.”

“I had to go to the store. Needed to buy more makeup. I used all mine up this morning trying to hide the bruises.” She gave him a pointed look and he ducked his head.  _That’s right, you’d better be sorry about that._ She didn’t expect a formal apology, doubting there was even a word in his vocabulary, but was placated to know he was at least chagrined at his antics. “And you know my schedule how?”

“I watch.”

“You “watch”. I don’t think I want to know. Was that you every time my dog was barking at nothing? I just assumed she was senile.”

“H’ko. Not every time.” She rolled her eyes and stormed off toward the house. Halfway there she paused and looked back at him. “You coming?”

Lia kicked off her heels and grabbed two beers out of the fridge, offering one to Ri’al, no longer so concerned about the claws. He took it gently, their fingers brushing momentarily, sending a spike of warmth straight to her core. Stopping a blush through sheer willpower, she popped the cap on the edge of the counter, pretending not to see Ri’al watching her like a hawk. He stared at the bottle in his hand for a moment before utilizing a talon to peel off the cap like it was foil.  _Must be nice…_  Only then did he remove his mask and clip it to his belt.

“Cheers,” she declared, leaning over to clink the neck of her bottle against his, before bringing it to her lips. He cocked his head like a dog.  _He's cute when he does that... Wait, what?_

Ri’al could only assume that tapping the drink containers was some sort of ritual. Yaut’ja had many rituals involving drink, though none involved touching cups together. Oomans were weird. His female now had hers tilted up, draining into her mouth. He followed suit. The drink was bitter, but not unpleasant.

“I’m glad you’re here. You didn’t say when you were coming back. Work was such a bore today and I could really use some mental stimulation.”  _I could use some other kinds of stimulation … Oh for crying out loud, who am I?!_ She needed a distraction.

Ri’al watched his female. There was something going on in that head of hers that had her out of sorts. She’d said she was pleased to see him, but was she not? Would she be dishonorable, and lie? Would he be able to tell if she did?

“I need to go take care of my horses. Would you like to come? If I introduce you to them, I doubt they’ll run for the hills.”

It was an interesting proposition. He’d never really been around large animals, unless they were seconds away from dying by his spear. He would also enjoy seeing her interact with the beasts close up. He was still amazed at the power she had over them. “Sei-i.”

 “Alright, give me a minute while I go change.”

“Go why?

“What ‘why’? I’m in my work clothes. I'm not going to get them dirty and I’m not going to change in front of you. That would be weird and uncomfortable and …”

Ri’al grunted. “Nothing I not see before.”

“…completely inapropri… What do you mean nothing you’ve not seen before?” She halted mid-ramble.

He gave her a passing look and gestured at her body. “Have seen. Nothing to worry.”

“’Have seen’? Explain ‘have seen’.”

“I watch you bathe.”

“WHAT?!

Lia was still fuming when they walked into the barn. He’d explained to her that Yaut’ja don’t view nudity in the same way as humans. She in turn had explained to him the concepts of privacy and peeping toms. She wasn’t at all convinced it had sunk in. She was even more pissed upon realizing she wasn’t entirely upset. That he seemed to find her attractive produced more butterflies than bile.  _I’m going insane._  The fact was, she’d always kind of had a thing for tall, ripped, bad boy sorts, and Ri’al was as tall, ripped and bad boy as they came. Her mother would die on the spot if she knew what sordid thoughts her daughter entertained.

It had never occurred to him that oomans would be so particular about hiding their flesh. He couldn’t begin to fathom why. Yaut’ja were not at all modest, casual nudity being common place. But his female was furious with him. If she’d had the claws of a huntress he’d be in pieces by now. Her tiny body, heated in a fit of temper, was quite a sight to behold. He liked it. Once they had left this planet he would have to anger her again, just to see what kind of mating passion it induced.

_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out._  Cultural misunderstanding or not, she needed to calm down. The horses were going to be on edge with a Yaut’ja in their midst and having her projecting unstable emotions would just add fuel to the fire. She indicated where Ri’al should wait while she mixed buckets of feed and called the horses in. He wisely chose to obey her in this matter. Once the horses were secure in their stalls, heads in their grain, she motioned the warrior over. There was an awful lot you could convince horses to tolerate when food was involved. She wanted them to get used to his scent and presence while they were happy and relaxed.

When they were finished she shooed Ri’al out of the barn and brought out Titan. Once on the lawn, she stroked the big horse and gave him a few treats, whispering to him quietly.

“This is Titan. Come here and hold out your hand.”

“Why?” The animal may be a grazer, he thought, but it still had teeth.

“He needs to smell you before he’ll let you any closer. You are a predator after all, correct? He’s a prey animal. As long as you don’t act like a threat, he won’t react like you’re one.”

Thinking this was by far one of the strangest thing he’d ever done, Ri’al slowly held out his hand. Titan snorted and took several steps back. Lia continued to pat and whisper to him, drawing the reluctant horse forward again. After a few moments of indecision, he reached with his long neck to take a few tentative sniffs of the offered, black taloned, hand. The warm air of the grazer’s breath felt strange on his skin. Thankfully it was replaced with the even warmer touch of soft ooman flesh.

“Here. These are treats, food, that he likes.” Lia dumped a small handful of odd looking lumps into his palm. He was thrilled, more than anything else, by the fact that she was making physical contact of her own accord. “Hold your hand flat like this, so he can eat out of it. And try not to poke him with your claws.” She demonstrated, allowing the big fleshy lips of the creature to grasp the “treats” from her hand. Once it was empty, she cupped it under his and drew it to the grazer’s mouth. Titan sniffed at him again, a bit unsure, before his stomach got the better of him and he gingerly took the food items. Ri’al was in a state of shock. Never could he have imagined participating in a scene like this. The lips of the grazer were warm and soft on his skin, the teeth remaining covered and in no way sought to harm him. He found his mandibles curling out in the Yaut’ja version of a smile.

Lia watched Ri’al’s expression thoughtfully. She was certain he was displaying happiness and wonder. She certainly was. Titan finished the treats and turned to her, searching her hands, waist and pockets for more. She giggled as the wriggling of his nose tickled her belly. Satisfied she had no more, he turned to Ri’al to give him a similar pat down. She burst into full on laughter at the tense, perplexed look on the Yaut’ja’s face. His expressions were becoming easier to read by the minute. Once Titan had dismissed them to go graze, she walked over and to sit at the now infamous picnic table, Ri’al standing silently beside her.

“So?” He glanced down at her. “What did you think?”

“Strange.”

“Strange good?”

He cocked his head adorably. “Sei-i.” She smiled.

“Why call grazer Titan?”

“It’s his name.”

“Why name.”

“He’s named because he’s an individual. He has his own personality, and I have a relationship with him.”

“Name all?” He said, gesturing in the direction of the barn.

“Yes, I name all my animals. To me they are all individuals, and deserving of their own identities." Ri’al pondered her declaration. He’d never thought of any creature, other than Yaut’ja, as being worthy of a personal designation. Except her. Ly’a was certainly an individual.

“Eat grazers?”

“Gods, no! You’d never get me to eat a horse. People do in other parts of the world, though. I guess that makes me a hypocrite since I’ll eat other animals. Cows and chickens and such.”

“Hunt?” If she hunted she’d be undeniably perfect.

“Not at all. Actually, that’s not true. I used to ride horses in a fox hunt.” He gave her an uncomprehending stare so she elaborated. “It’s a human… sport, tradition maybe. A group of people get together on horses, with a pack of hounds, dogs…” He gave a soft growl at that. She shot him a curious look before continuing. “There’s this animal called a fox. It’s about the size of Maybelle, my dog, and very cunning. The hounds search through the fields for a scent, and when they find it, they go chasing after the fox, and those of us on horses follow. It’s a lot of fun.”

“You kill fox? Take trophy?”

“Not me, no. I guess they might in some places. The hunt I rode with wasn’t really trying to catch the fox. Mostly we just got dressed up, pretended we were chasing things, and got drunk while doing so. Fun times.”  Yes, Ri’al could remember many good times he’d had while under the influence of c’ntlip. Syra’kai was a prominent fixture in most of them.

“This might be a weird question, but what do you do? I mean, do you have a job? Are you, like, a mechanic on a space ship or something?”

“I hunt.”

“For food? Aren’t Yaut’ja a bit advanced for that.”

“For th’syra. Trophy.”

“Thees… that word you said. That means trophy?”

Ri’al didn’t know the ooman word. “Means…” he tapped a claw on her forehead, careful not to damage her skin. She flinched involuntarily.

“Head? Brain?” Lia felt ill.

“H’ko.” He palmed the top of her head. “Th’syra. In head.”

“Skull? You make trophies out of skulls? That’s rather morbid, though I see you wear them as a necklace.” His hand was still perched on her head, which they both noticed at the same moment. Lia looked ready to duck out from under it, but Ri’al froze her with a purr. He gently combed his fingers through the copper strands, sliding them back and slicing the band holding it in a knot with a talon. Her hair fell, flowing over his fingers like water. She stared into his eyes, body tense, as he brushed a thumb over her eyebrow, slipping his fingers back to trace the curve of her ear before dragging them forward across the metal rings adorning her lobe. He stepped slowly around her, purr never faltering, hand tracing the bruises of his making, the consummate predator stalking his prey.

Lia gasped as she felt him lean into her back and twine his mandibles in her hair. The profound heat of his body was burning her up, while the purring, which she felt in her bones, kept her frozen in place. His thumb continued to caress her jugular while the other hand came up to settle on her hip. Her heart was pounding in time to the throb of his purr. She couldn’t repress the shudder that ran up her spine, one part fear, one part anticipation. This was wrong on so many levels, and she knew where it could lead, but the logical part of her brain was so boring sometimes, so she sent it packing.

“Breathe,” he whispered in her ear, and she sucked in a lungful.  _Breathing is good, breathing is good_. She was certain she felt what must be a smirk against the back of her head. She was surrounded by his scent and engulfed in his warmth, drunk on the moment. Her knees buckled when she felt the wetness of a tongue trace up the side of her neck. Only his hands on her body kept her upright.

He couldn’t get enough; her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin. He panted, trembling slightly with the effort it took not to toss her to the ground and rut her like an animal till she couldn't walk. With an abruptness that startled them both, Ri’al pushed her away, Lia barely managing to keep her feet beneath her. She turned to see a nearly feral glint in his eyes. His fists clenched rhythmically at his sides, his body so tense it was shaking. It took a moment to gather the scattered pieces of her brain and realize she was shaking too.


	7. The Big Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the emotional rollercoaster begin...

**Chapter 6: The Big Question**  

The only coherent thought she could form was  _what just happened?_  It was magical. It was visceral. It completely freaked her out. She hugged herself, desperate for something solid to cling to. No man,  _ever_ , had affected her the way this inhuman one just had. With a simple touch he’d owned her, body and soul. While she may project an aura of nonchalance, her sense of self, her freedom of choice, meant everything, and in an instant he’s stripped that away. It terrified her. The reasons for her fears were buried deep, and she felt them bubbling to the surface. Unwilling to go down that road, she slammed the memories back into the abyss.

Across from her, Ri’al was struggling to rein himself in. Certainly he’d been aroused into a frenzy by females before, but there was something undeniably, uncontrollably different about this; something beneath the surface that had no name. He’d felt as though he were loosing himself, drowning in her, and it frightened him, which was an emotion he had next to no experience with. He was losing control of the situation and was anxious to find solid ground again. The female, his female, Ly’a, looked panicked, eyes wide and frantic, body tensed to flee.  _I must fix this. I’ve worked too hard to loose her now._  He started to purr, but stuttered to a stop when her heartbeat rose exponentially. Instead, he took a few steps back and crouched, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

That purr. That purr did things to her. It put him in the drivers seat and she  _not_  ok with it. “I – I think I need to go back to my house now."

She slowly walked past him, skirting his crouched form. Ri’al felt a spike of disappointment. “Will you come again?” She paused, not looking at him. Perhaps all was not lost. He could still salvage this. He’d simply pushed her too soon.

“Sei-i.” She nodded and walked away.

The next morning, Lia was awoken by a tapping at her bedroom window. Maybelle, half deaf as she was, didn’t even wake.  _Some guard dog you are._  She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and saw Ri’al on the far side of the glass, clinging to the side of her house. She waved him away, yelling that she’d be down in a minute, before crawling out of bed. A few minutes later she was greeting him at her door in hastily donned jeans and tee, hair still tousled from bed. She’d slept very little, spending most of the night tossing and turning, replaying the previous day's events over and over. She honestly wasn’t sure that she wanted to see Ri’al today.

“Come,” he trilled.

“Good morning to you too.” Could he not see she was half awake and hadn’t had coffee yet?

“Come,” he repeated.  _Man, he can’t take a hint._

“Where?” Going anywhere with him right now didn’t seem like a wise idea. She wasn’t sure how much she trusted him around herself, and she certainly didn’t trust herself around him.

“I take you… place,” he seemed to struggle to find the right word. As it so happened, Ri’al had also had a sleepless night. He’d spent time in the kehrite, attempting to cool and contain the unfamiliar emotions he had no frame of reference for. Only at dawn did he decide on a corrective course of action. He needed only for Ly’a to be cooperative. He was certain, if he could convince her to come with him, that he would be redeemed in her eyes and his suit could continue without difficulty or delay.

“A place on Earth?”

“Sei-i. Place. Is…gift.”

“Can you tell me where?” Curiosity had been known to lead her astray before.

“H’ko. When arrive.”

“So it’s a surprise,” she stated. He nodded, dreadlocks falling over his shoulder. “And you’ll promise to bring me back here?”

“Sei-i. Promise.”

She mulled over his offer. What's the worst that could happen?  _I could die, I suppose. Or maybe forced to have sex with the most attractive creature I've ever met._ The former seemed highly unlikely and the latter just wasn't enough if a deterrent to get her to slam the door in his face like any reasonable person would. This was such a bad idea. “Ok.”

He led her out across the pasture and into the woods. While still a bit uneasy, Lia just couldn’t keep herself from glowing with excitement. Where could he possibly take her as a surprise? “Are we walking the whole way there, because I can’t think of anything terribly interesting within walking distance of my house?”

“H’ko. Take ship.” Her unease dissipated instantly and she had to suppress a squeal of delight. His ship! A real space ship!  _A scarily sexy alien is taking me somewhere special on his spaceship. Oh. My. God!!_

They followed a trail she rode on regularly for nearly forty minutes before Ri’al turned into the trees. Five minutes later they entered a clearing. Lia looked around inquiringly, wondering why they’d stopped, while her companion tapped at the computer in his gauntlet. She let loose a startled yelp and grabbed his arm when, with an electric crackle, a huge gray ship appeared. It was a couple hundred feet long and at least 40 feet tall. Unlike the cold, purely functional design of most human mechanical construction, this ship was beautiful, with graceful lines and designs similar to those on Ri’al’s armor decorating its hull.

“How do you guys  _do_  that?” She honestly didn’t expect an answer and she didn’t get one. Ri’al had thus far proven tight-lipped about anything to do with his species or their technology. Another tap on the wrist guard and a wide doorway opened in the side of the ship with a hiss, ramp sliding out to touch the ground.

“Come,” he beckoned. Lia was agog. She followed him up the ramp into a large dim space, which, based on her limited knowledge of space ships gleaned from scifi movies, she guessed was the loading bay.

“Is this whole thing yours?”

“Sei-i. Am Blooded Warrior. Have own ship.” He puffed up a bit in pride.

“It's huge! And it’s only you in it? Wow, you must be rich.” They were still standing in the loading bay while Ri’al messed with some sort of computer mounted on the wall. Lia peeked around his shoulder and got a glimpse of strange red glyphs which she figured must be the Yaut’ja’s written language. A fine white mist swirled around their knees, and the air was very hot and humid. She could already feel beads of sweat running down her spine. Ri’al finished whatever it he was doing and turned to face her.

“Change atmosphere. Better for ooman.”

“You don’t breathe the same air we do? But you’ve been around me plenty without your mask!”

“Breathe same air. Different mix. Can breathe ooman air for five cycles before problem. Also make cooler.”

“Oh. Ok. Thank you.” He set off down a corridor and she hurried to follow. They were in a long hallway that seemed to run the length of the ship. The walls were made of metal and heavily decorated in the same tribal style she’d come to associate with him. There were no visible lights, only a dim, red tinted glow. What she could see of the floor, through the fog, appeared to be metal grate. Ri’al said something she completely missed, too caught up in trying to inspect everything at once.

“What was that?”

“Yaut’ja not rich like ooman. No money. Have status in clan. Earn honor. Trade for what need.”

“So you have a high… status?”

“Sei-i. Sire is Elder. Bearer was Elder. Strong blood.”

“Your bearer, uh, mother, is she dead?”

“ _U’sl-kwe_  many seasons past.” They’d reached a door at the end of the corridor, which slid open with an almost inaudible hiss. Clearly, from the elaborate electronics, this was some sort of cockpit. Ri’al motioned for her to sit in an oversized chair off to the side while he went about whatever it was he needed to do to get the ship in the air. Minutes later he motioned her over. Above the control panel, which was a long, arced counter covered in buttons, toggles and touchscreens, was a screen where a windshield would have been in a human plane. As she watched, it flickered to life and showed a 3D image of the ground falling away. She hadn’t even felt the ship take off! Lia had a whole new appreciation for the vast technology gap between humans and Yaut’ja.

Ri’al, instead of watching the screen, watched his female’s reaction. She showed no fear, nor did he scent it. Her eyes were wide, absorbing the minutiae of the experience. He wanted to touch her again but restrained himself. She had been frightened, as much as she’d been aroused, and he did not want her scared. It had come as a shock that ooman  _n’dui’se_  was so similar to that of a female Yaut’ja, and it fired the same primal instincts in him. Had he not pushed her away, he might have dishonored himself and taken her against her will. Perhaps it was good oomans wore so many coverings, for if he’d had easier access things would certainly have progressed too far. Her body may have been ready, but it was clear her mind was not… yet. He hoped his gift would replace any residual fear she had of him, and prove to her that she could not possibly do better in a mate.

It was beautiful, watching the land recede. Taking off in an airplane had always made her a bit nervous, but this, this was simply amazing. There, in the distance was New York, and then the open ocean. She felt Ri’al’s hand land softly on her shoulder; at least softly for him. He ushered her toward the door. She gave a longing look at the view screen, before following back into the heart of the ship.

“That was… I don’t even know what that was. How does it take off so smoothly? I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Yaut’ja technology superior.”

“No shit. So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“H’ko.”

“Fine, be that way,” she huffed. Walking through another door revealed a lounge. There was a large, bowl-shaped depression in the floor filled with furred pillows and skin blankets, none of which looked remotely terrestrial. Along the wall opposite the door was another viewing screen. Ri’al bypassed the lounge and walked up to, what to all appearances, was a flat metal wall with more of the alien etchings. He tapped a spot and a panel slid open to reveal what looked suspiciously like a bar. Moments later Lia was curled up with a purple spotted pillow, sipping a very strong mixed drink.

“What’s in this?”

“C’ntlip and naxa juice. Make weak for you.”

“This is weak?!” she croaked, eyes watering and throat burning. Lia could pound shots with the guys any day, but over the last few years she’d gotten away from hard liquor, generally preferring wine or beer. This was equal to the hardest stuff she’d ever drunk. Ri’al relaxed in the lounge across from her, giant clawed feet propped up on the edge, cup in hand. He was watching her again, as he so often did. His face was almost as inscrutable as his mask.

“Tell more about you life.”

And so she did. She told him about her childhood, about growing up on the farm. She told him about her love of art and her forestalled dreams of college and a career beyond. She told him about her parents divorce and how much it hurt. Before she knew it, an hour had passed and Ri’al got up to go land the ship, indicating she should stay where she was. Lying in the bowl, Lia was overcome with the surreal nature of the entire situation. It made her burst into a fit of giggles that quickly had her rolling in the pillows, unable to shake the hilarious thought that she was on a date with an alien; having a first date get-to-know-you conversation while drinking alien booze on an alien space ship.  _No, not a date. Just hanging with a friend. That’s all this can be._  The acute disappointment she felt at that thought sobered her instantly. Before she had a chance to examine her feelings though, Ri’al returned.

“Come. At place.” Lia scrambled out of the lounge and followed him back to the loading bay. She noticed he’d added more armor, including what looked like it might be a gun on his shoulder. In his hand he held an odd metal pole about two feet long, etched like everything else. About to ask what it was, and why he was suddenly armed for battle, the words never made it out of her throat as the wide bay door opened and she was confronted with a strange, and yet equally familiar, vista. Her jaw hung open. It was Africa! He’d brought her to Africa! Lia let loose that squeal of delight she’d been holding in for the last couple hours, jumping up and down and clapping her hands for good measure.

Ri’al wasn’t prepared for Lia to tackle him. One moment she was bouncing, making presumably happy ooman sounds and the next her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist and she was mumbling something unintelligible into his stomach. Not at all sure what she was doing or why, he fell back on that tried and true method of calming females; he purred. This time her body did not tense up. Eventually she looked up, chin resting on his abdomen, to meet his eyes, hers brimming with unshed tears.

“Thank you. Just, thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.” He nodded slowly, much more interested in the full body contact of his female than her exclamations of gratitude. Yaut’ja had no comparative phrase to “thank you” in their language. Appreciation was shown through actions not words. He reached up with a clawed hand and tucked a wayward copper strand behind Lia’s ear. She didn’t flinch away.

“Go. See. I protect.” With a grin that was positively radiant, Lia walked off the ship, Ri’al on her heels. And he did. Together they explored the verdant savanna, watching herds of zebra, wildebeest and giraffe; even once in the distance a family group of elephants. Ri’al made some comment about them making worthy prey and Lia smacked his arm, telling him in no uncertain terms that she forbid him from hunting such majestic, and endangered, animals. He grunted, surprised at her forwardness in scolding him. He found it difficult to categorize his reaction, or lack thereof. He’d spent his entire life being submissive to females. Oomans, were a lesser species, though, and despite Ly’a being female, she was still ooman. Such an insult should not go unanswered. It was difficult to reconcile.

“Humans are such stupid creatures,” she was rambling. “We’ve put so much effort into destroying everything beautiful and special in our world. And for what? Money? Power? Having a bigger house and a Mercedes in the garage? It disgusts me. What’s that compared to this?” She swept her arm out, indicating the panorama before them. Ri’al was astonished and pleased with her beliefs. They was very much in line with those of the Yaut’ja.

They climbed up a rock outcrop, Ri’al helping her in difficult spots, and sat side by side at the top to watch the sun set. “So much gone that we can never get back,” she sighed wistfully. “Rhinos, tigers, elephants; all nearly extinct. Did you know that humans hunt them, sometimes for trophies like you, but mostly for one body part, like their horns or tusks? They shoot entire herds, even the babies, with machine guns and hack off what they want while the poor things are still alive. It makes me want to cry just to think of the suffering. And then they grind up the horns and eat it because men think it will give them bigger dicks.”

“Oomans have no honor,” Ri’al stated with conviction. What she had just described was  _u’darahje_ , an abomination of the hunt. Any who committed such atrocities were bad bloods and deserved to die and be forgotten. His female was sad now, staring at the fading colors of the sky, unseeing. He was oddly moved, desiring only to return her happy mood. “Not extinct. These animals.”

“Hmm?” She turned her attention back to him.

“Yaut’ja hunt also. Worthy prey. See oomans destroy. Move many to reserve planet.”

It took her a moment to grasp what he was saying. “Are you telling me that you’ve taken elephants and rhinos and other animals to another planet to save them?” He nodded. “That’s wonderful! Now you guys  _really_  have my respect.” She turned back to the sunset, a smile once more on her face. As she watched the colors fade, she leaned her head against his arm, taking comfort in his solid presence.

They returned to the ship soon after, Ri’al able to see perfectly in the dark with his mask, making sure Lia suffered no mishaps. When they were airborne, he once again settled in the lounge with her. This time though, Lia was less interested in talking, still too absorbed in the sudden realization of a childhood dream. Ri’al was taken aback when she crawled across the pillows to his side. Tucking herself under his arm, she laid her head on his chest. He was once again at a loss for how to react. No female had ever done such a thing with him. Males and females had little physical contact aside from the act of mating, which was generally violent, and females expected males to make themselves scarce shortly thereafter. Finally, he relaxed and draped an arm around her.

Lia smiled when the tension left the body beneath her and a comforting weight wrapped around her. She knew she should feel guilty, but couldn’t muster the wherewithal. “Your heartbeat is strange,” she whispered. She felt, more than heard, the rumble of his reply.

“Two hearts.”

“Oh,” she stifled a yawn. “That’s neat,” and she slipped into sleep.

Sometime later she awoke to a gentle nudge from Ri’al. Her head was still on his chest, arm laying across his stomach and fingers gripping the mesh of his suit.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up, instantly missing his warmth. “I didn’t mean to turn you into my personal pillow. Didn’t mean to fall asleep either. I guess our little trip wore me out.”

“Not problem.” It had been the furthest thing from a problem. He’d taken the opportunity to observe her uninterrupted. Ooman features were still so foreign, but the symmetry and shape of hers were growing on him. He’d examined the fur that covered nearly all her skin, so fine and pale as to be almost invisible except under close scrutiny. Her eyelids twitched and flicked as she slept, and he postulated theories as to why. His fingers found their way again into her hair and he marveled anew at the softness and unique color. He’d been loath to wake her up, but they’d been back in the clearing near her home for some time and there was necessary business to attend to.

As they walked down the ramp, the sky only just past another sunset, Ly’a thanked him again. He found the sentiment unnecessary, but humored her. “I take you to dwelling now. Collect things. Then we leave.” He had been briefed by the experts on oomans that his chosen female would be more tractable if allowed to bring a few mementos with her.

“What are you talking about?” She looked confused.

“We go to clanship now. I claim you as mate.”

Lia felt all happy feelings recede and less pleasant ones supplant them. “Ri’al, I have a husband. You can’t just take me home with you. I live here. Belong here.”

“H’ko. Belong to me. Mate not matter. My mate now.”

She was backing away from him, that sense of panic, of loosing control was returning full force. “Don’t I get a say in this? I like you Ri’al, but this thing between us is not meant for reality. What could you possibly want me as a “mate” for? How would that even work?”

“Need you to breed pups. You strong, healthy, worthy. Healers make possible. Is honor.”

She stood up straight, anger flaring. “Breed pups? That’s what you want me for, to be your broodmare? Absolutely not! Mate? That’s what you call a mate? I will not go with you to become an alien baby making machine. _No one_ owns me” Her rage was epic.

Ri’al could see the heat and fury rolling off her in waves.  _Well that wasn’t the reaction I expected_. He stood stock still; unable to comprehend where it had all gone wrong. Just moments before, she had been relaxed and content in his presence. She had proven more than once that her body reacted favorably to him. She’d slept in his arms for  _Paya’s_  sake!   _And now she’s leaving!_

Lia had made it half a dozen steps when she felt a heavy hand grasp her shoulder. No. She would not be cowed into submission. She would not fall prey to his diversionary tactics. She spun around, smacking his arm away. “How dare you. Don’t you dare touch me again. Has this been you’re plan all along? Have you been playing me just steal me away?” Her voice had risen into the spectrum of shrill. “No, you’d have done it already if it was that easy. I have to come willingly, don’t I? You can’t just kidnap me in the night. Is this what all the women have been taken for? Well, I’ll have none of it. Leave Ri’al. Go back to where you came from, because I will never be your  _mate_ ,” she sneered. A moment later she’d disappeared into the darkness. This time it was Ri'al frozen in place.


	8. And It All Falls Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a looong chapter (for me) and very difficult to write. There are mentions of rape, sexual abuse and abortion, if those are touchy subjects for you. I promise things will get better after this. There is quite a bit more to the story of Lia and Ri'al.

**Chapter 7: And it All Falls Apart**

She was gone. She was really gone. Ri’al couldn't have been more shocked if she had... Had what? Nothing. He simply couldn't have been more shocked. His first instinct was to roar a challenge, to hunt her down like the animal she was and drag her back, kicking and screaming if necessary. His anger was palpable, a living thing that coiled in his guts. It quickly morphed to indignation. _How dare I? Who does this ooman think she is? I am a Blooded Warrior, son of Jaust’re and Nrax’i’te , Honored Elders of the Halkrath Nrak’ytara Clan. How dare she! I will not be dismissed by prey!_ _Pauk this! Pauk this entire pauk-de planet and every pauk-de pyode amheda on it!_ He did roar then; one last F-you that shook the leaves on the trees and reverberated through the woods and across the fields. The echo hadn’t even faded when the gray ship lifted from the ground and shot into the atmosphere, destined for parts unknown.

Lia had managed to hold it together, dignity intact, until she heard him roar. She hadn’t run, she hadn’t looked back, though the tears had already begun to fall. When the sound of his bellow washed over her, made her heart seize in terror, only then did she dart away. She ran blindly; tripping over roots, branches snagging her skin, eyes clouded with tears, not caring where her feet lead her. She knew she could never outrun him if he chased her, knew it instinctively as prey recognizes predator. Yet she ran anyway. Ran from her fear. Ran from her anger. Ran from the inhuman man she’d been swiftly falling in love with. She ran until she thought her lungs would burst and fell to the ground heaving. He hadn’t come for her; he hadn’t killed her and taken her skull, or hog tried her and carried her away. _I’m such a fool._ And so she curled up where she’d fallen and wept.

When the racking sobs ceased, Lia climbed to her feet and continued stumbling through the undergrowth, only the light of a partial moon to guide her way. Eventually she reached the river and knew where she was. She drank greedily from the current and splashed away the tears, dirt and blood. Not long after, she found a familiar trail and began the long walk home. She felt hollow inside. It had been like a dream. Their connection had been immediate and undeniable. With Ri’al, Lia felt she could truly be herself. But it was just a stupid fantasy. _Really Lia, what kind of idiot falls for an alien. You should have known that was all he’d want you for. Why on earth would he want a relationship, of whatever sort, with you. You’re pathetic._ The whole walk back to the farm she berated herself, tore herself to pieces and told herself it was what she deserved.

Dawn was cresting when the house came into view. Shuffling up the walk, footsore and bone weary, she was taken completely by surprise when Mark threw open the door and grabbed her by both arms. “God Lia, where have you been?! I’ve been so worried about you!” He was the absolute last person she wanted to see right now, except for a certain Yaut’ja.

“I-I…What are you doing home? I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow, today I mean.”

“I was worried. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. I left the conference early and took a late train. What happened to you? Why are you all scratched up and coming in from the field at 6 am? Did one of your horses dump you out on a ride?”

It would be easy to tell him yes, that she’d taken a fall far out on the trails, maybe been knocked out for a while. It would be entirely too easy and yet guilt at the thought of doing so stabbed straight through her heart. No, so couldn’t do that to him. Besides, some how, some way, the story would fall apart. “I went to Africa.”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Honey, did you hit your head when you fell?”

“No, I didn’t fall. Not off a horse. I met a Yaut’ja and he took me to Africa.”

“What?”

“I should have told you. He appeared out of no where the day you left. I thought it was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me. He asked me to teach him about humans and so I did. At some point I told him I’d always wanted to go to Africa, and he took me.”

“How… You’re telling me a Yaut’ja, a giant alien warrior, came here and asked you to be his teacher, then just happened to whisk you off to Africa for the day? And that didn’t strike you as strange?” She nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve spoken two or three times since I left?” She didn’t have an answer for that and told him as much. “Don’t you know that those creatures steal women? He could have taken you anywhere! No one knows what they do with their victims!”

“I do,” she whispered, glancing up to find his brown eyes boring into her expectantly. “They take women for breeding.”

“It told you that?”

“Yes. He told me he wanted me to be his mate.” She felt Mark’s grip on her arms tighten.

“That bastard. If he ever comes around here again I’m going to shoot his ass, treaty be damned.”

“No, no you won’t!” She said, her voice taking on a sharp edge. “You have no idea how powerful they are, how much stronger and more advanced! I highly doubt he’ll be coming back anyway.” She could feel Mark trembling with rage through his hands. “I was so stupid,” she confessed, staring at her feet, tears once again pooling in her eyes. “I should have known, or at least guessed. There were all kinds of signs; I was just too blind to see them. Maybe didn’t want to see them.”

“What are you talking about? What signs? Did that thing touch you?” He shook her gently until she met his eyes again. “It did, didn’t it? And you still went with it? What would make you…” Twin tears slipped down her cheeks, which had darkened in a guilty blush. “Oh God. You…you wanted to, wanted it! You were ok with having a..a..monster touch you? What else did you do? Did you let it fuck you as well?” He pushed her away violently. The tears came faster and dripped off her chin like rain. Even as she shook her head, she knew it was a lie. She’d wanted his touch, craved it. If it had come down to it, yes she would have slept with Ri’al. And she knew Mark could see that truth in her eyes.

“You know, I always knew there was something wrong with you. You hide it real well, but I can see it. You’re broken Lia. Broken. And I don’t think you can be fixed.” He speared her with a look of disgust. Her knees buckled as he stormed past her, and she heard a car door slam and the patter of flying gravel as he peeled out of the driveway. For the second time that day, she lay on the ground and wept.

When she’d sufficiently pulled herself together, she staggered into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, finding her phone where she’d left it charging. Pulling up her contacts, she selected one and pressed send, waiting while it rang.

A pleasant feminine voice picked up. “Hi sweetheart. I was just thinking about you. How’s everything?”

“Hi Mom,” Lia’s voice cracked.

“Sweetheat, what’s the matter? Are you alright?”

“No Mom, I’m not. I think I’ve ruined it all. Everything,” she wailed.

“What do you mean? Has something bad happened?” Her mother’s voice sounded frantic.

“I need you Mom…I…I just need you.”

“Ok. I’m on my way.”

Perhaps an hour later, she heard the bang of the door downstairs and her mother’s voice calling her name. She’d been staring at the wall, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to think of anything for fear that she’d drown in her thoughts. She heard footsteps on the stairs and them the warmth of a body sitting on the bed beside her prone form. A soft hand came up to stroke her head. Once more she felt tears pooling. How was it possible for one person to cry this much? He mother didn’t say a word; just pet her gently until her sniffling came to a stop.

Her elder woman got up and left the room for a moment, returning with a glass of water and a wet washcloth. “Here, let me wash your face off.” Despite the strained quality of their relationship, her mother was the only parent she had now. Lia sat up and sighed as the cool dampness cleansed her swollen features. After she’d drained the glass and sat staring at it, cradled in her hands, her mother asked the question she feared most. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?” If she’d had tears left, they would have started anew.

“I screwed up, Mom. I’ve screwed up so much, and I don’t think it’s possible to redeem myself.”

“Tell me what happened, and we’ll decide together if it’s a hopeless situation.” So she did. She told her mom about Ri’al, how they met, their “lessons” and impromptu trip to the other side of the world. She told her about his “proposal” and how she’d run, only to get home and piss off Mark so badly he’d left, with no idea if he was planning on coming back.

“It was so wrong. I know it was wrong, but I really liked him. I liked how I felt when I was with him. I haven’t felt good in such a long time.”

“I can’t pretend to understand this apparent attraction you have for… Ri’al, but I already knew you weren’t happy with Mark.”

“You did? But how? I mean, Mark is such a good guy. I should be thrilled to have him. I don’t know why I’m not. I wonder if I’m even capable of loving someone the way you’re supposed to. And now I’ve lost them both. Mark was so mad. I didn’t even have to tell him anything. He just knew. He said I was broken, that I always had been. Honestly, I think he’s right. And Ri’al, I really might have gone with him. Part of me wanted to, but he said I’d be with him to have his children, his pups, and I just don’t think I could handle that. I can’t handle the thought of having human children, let alone alien children.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not broken. I need to ask you though, where does this fear of having children come from? You love kids. You’re so good with them. So maybe Mark’s not the right man, but there’s still time find someone else.” The look she gave her mother then, the raw pain that radiated out through her eyes made the older woman gasp.

“You’re going to hate me if I tell you. Hate me like everyone else does. And if you stop loving me, who do I have left?”

“I could never hate you darling. It’s simply not possible. There’s nothing, _nothing_ , you could tell me that would ever make me stop loving you.” Her soft, warm hands gripped Lia’s, lending her strength as her own began to tremble.

“No one knows,” she whispered. “I’ve never wanted anyone to know, least of all you.”

She felt a reassuring squeeze of her hands. “Go on.”

“When I was seventeen, and Dad died, I thought my heart had died with him. I loved him so much. I don’t think I ever forgave you for leaving him. I understand why, now. I understand how people can grow apart, but back then, all I could see was you happy with your new perfect family, and Dad alone. That’s why I chose to live with him. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being by himself.” Her mother nodded sadly. “So after he died, I was distraught. I felt so lost, so alone. You know that. You saw me. So did Gregg apparently.” She heard a quiet gasp at the mention of her step-father’s name. “The first time, you and the boys had gone somewhere, hockey practice maybe, and I was crying in my room, which was nothing new. Gregg came in and gave me a hug. He acted like he was there to comfort me, told me everything was going to be ok. Next thing I knew he was kissing me, grabbing my breasts. He pushed me back on the bed. I think I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do, how to make him stop. I couldn’t believe it was even happening to me.” The hands holding her own had become very tense.

“It wasn’t my first time. I’m thankful for that. I’d slept with that boy, Josh, I’d been seeing a few times. He told me I was beautiful, that he’d always wanted me. When it was over, he… he said that I ‘belonged to him now,’ that if I told you he’d say that I was a ‘fucked up kid’ and was making the whole thing up. That no one would believe me because I just wanted attention since my Dad had died. I don’t know how long I lay there in the dark. For a little while I wanted to die. Felt that maybe it would be better, easier, and I could be with Dad. Then I heard you and the boys come home and thought about what it would do to you and them if I killed myself.” Tears were now freely running down her mother’s face. This time it was Lia’s turn to squeeze her hands in reassurance. “I promise you, that was the one and only time I contemplated suicide.”

“It wasn’t the only that once with Gregg, though. It happened many more times over the next few years. I convinced myself that he was right. That I was fucked up, and that somehow I’d wanted it. Still, that’s when I started getting pierced and tattooed, started hanging with the goth crowd. It’s also when I really got interested in art, and thinking about it as a career. I just bided my time until I could leave for college. Even though I was only going to NYU, it was still somewhere new and different. I figured things would get better. Gregg was still there whenever I came home though, and we still had sex. It wasn’t until I was a junior, right around the time the Yaut’ja came, that I got pregnant. I was so scared. I didn’t want the baby. I knew it was the product of something horrible and wrong. I thought that even if I had the baby, I’d hate it, because of what it represented. So I had an abortion. I called Gregg right after; told him what I’d done. Told him that I’d had some DNA saved from the fetus and if he ever came near me again I’d expose him for the rapist scum that he is. I guess I just finally grew some balls. That’s when I quit school and moved back to the farm. That’s why I stopped coming over for holidays and basically retreated from the world. I created a “safe” little life for myself.”

He mother was shaking, mascara tracks marring her lovely face. It was several minutes before she could speak. “Oh God. I had no idea. I never saw it. What you must have gone through…”

“You believe me then?”

“I don’t believe you would lie about something like this. Why did you never say anything? It’s been years.”

“I think a part of me still always believed that it was my fault. I was afraid that you’d pick him over me. And I didn’t want to deprive the boys of their father. He may be a scumbag, but he was a decent father to them. I didn’t want to be the cause of ruining that. I would never want another child to live in a broken home. Now that the boys are grown…”

“I can’t believe I wasted over twenty years of my life with a man who raped and tortured my daughter.” The woman looked absolutely lost.

“What will you do?”

Lia could see the resolve harden and for the first time realized what a strong woman her mother was. “For starters, I’m going to go home and change the locks. Them I’m going to divorce his sorry ass. Has the statute of limitations run out yet? We’ll turn him in and use that DNA to have him convicted.”

“It’s no good, Mom. I was bluffing. There’s no proof of the original rape either, and after that, I guess you could say it was consensual, though he’d emotionally fucked me over.”

“Even if we can’t send him to jail, he’ll be out of our lives. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you, Mom. Thank you for still loving me.” He mother just sighed and hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe. She didn’t mind. Once they’d separated again, Lia felt like the 20-ton anchor she’d been carrying around her neck had been lifted. “So what do I do now? I don’t know if Mark will forgive me. After what I’ve experienced this week, I’m not sure I can go back to living the life I was.”

“You’ve been hiding. Hiding all this time. This farm has been a sanctuary for you, but it’s also been you’re security blanket. You need to take some time, figure out what you want. I’ll back whatever decision you make.”

“Honestly,” she looked up from her hands, meeting green and brown eyes so like her own, “if I’m really, truly honest, what I want is Ri’al. I’m not sold on the “pups” part, but the thought of starting a new life, somewhere faraway and completely _alien_ ,” she gave a snort, “there’s something tempting about the idea. And the way I felt with him… But the way he said it. That I ‘belonged to him,’ it brought back all those memories of Gregg. I can’t, I won’t be owned by anyone. Not again. I can’t loose my freedom like that, especially now that I’m honestly, truly good and free. I suppose I should thank Ri’al for that. If it wasn’t for him, I’d still be in the cage I built for myself, and might never have gotten out. That, and he took me to Africa. ”

“I always knew you were meant for greater things than this.” She lightly gripped either side of her daughter’s face. “You’re smart and beautiful and talented. You shouldn’t be wasting your life here. You have no more reason to hide. You owe it to yourself to spread your wings and fly. Don’t let anyone or anything hold you back. No matter what you decide, I’ll support you.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t made it out of the system before his knee-jerk anger had run its course. As if of their own accord, his hands reached for the controls and put the ship in orbit around one of the sixth planet’s moons. What was he doing? He was running away. He knew it, and if he returned to the Clanship, his sire would know it too. Running was not the Yaut’ja way. You fought until you won, or you died trying. It simply wasn’t in his nature to give up. Still, what to do? He could return and find another female. No, it wouldn’t work. He knew that as well. She was _his_ female, the only one he wanted. _When did I start thinking of her as mine?_ She wasn’t though. She never accepted his claim.

He tried to view things from her perspective. She wasn’t an animal, she wasn’t just any _pyode amedha_. He’d been mistaken in so many of his assumptions. Ly’a was intelligent and thoughtful. She had a depth that he could never have imagined. He’d always thought of oomans as one dimensional creatures, but they weren’t, at least not this one. She challenged his preconceived notions. The way she acted around him, acted toward him, reacted _to_ him… it was mind boggling. Was there any way he could have prepared for that? And the way he reacted to _her…_ it defied explanation. Even now, planets away, he found himself yearning for her, not just physically, but for her presence, her companionship. _Is this how Elders feel when they choose a Lifemate?_ Yaut’ja life was so solitary. He couldn’t say he’d ever felt a connection with another that he could compare this one with, except perhaps his Bearer. There were fundamental differences between the two relationships though.

The way she’d reacted when he claimed her as mate… in her anger he could have mistaken her for a Yaut’ja female. In that moment she had no fear of him. Surely she must know she was no match for him, that he could kill her in an instant, yet she struck him and told him in no uncertain terms that he would never have a claim on her. _Never_. He felt a strange pain behind his sternum, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. _I dishonored her_. He’d taken away her choice and it was only right that he should feel her wrath. She may be _pyode amedha_ , but she was the female he wanted to bear his pups, the female he, in essence, wanted as his lifemate. And he’d treated her with less respect than an Eta. His hands reached out with purpose this time, setting a course back to the Blue Planet. He would return to her, posture himself on the ground before her if need be, and offer her his lifeblood. For in that moment, he realized, he didn’t want to live without her, the little copper-hair ooman that now owned him body and soul.

After their epic heart-to-heart, Lia took a long hot shower while her mother made dinner. They sat at the dining table with candles and wine, reminiscing over good times long past and discussing options for her future. Mark had not returned and for that she was grateful. She needed time to process everything and decide on a course of action. Her mother retired to the guestroom around midnight, exhausted from the day’s revelations and unwilling to go home and encounter the man who’d ruined her daughter’s life. It was her intention to visit her lawyer first thing in the morning and file divorce papers. She had no interest in hearing Gregg’s side of the story. Lia did not immediately head to bed, though she was as tired as she could ever recall being. Instead she curled up on the couch, Maybelle’s head in her lap, sipping her third glass of wine. It was a whole new world, and she’d need to find her place in it. The only thing she was sure about was that she wanted to go back to school. She might have to repeat a lot of classes, but it would be worth it to get her dreams back on track. She’d also have to talk with Mark. Find out if there was a way to salvage their marriage and if either of the wanted to. Eventually she dragged herself upstairs, falling into bed still cuddling her dog.

She woke late and found her Mom in the kitchen making brunch. She’d apparently called her lawyer and would be meeting him at the courthouse that afternoon. Lia was famished, only just realizing it had been the better part of two days since she’d had anything to eat. With all the stress, she doubted she’d have kept anything down anyway. Stomach satisfied, she dressed and made her way out to the barn to care for her rather neglected horses. Thankfully they’d been out in the field the whole time and not locked in their stalls. Titan came over to greet her immediately and she apologized for not being there. Her apology was accepted once she produced a handful of treats. She spent a long time with the horses, enjoying the meditative qualities of grooming them.

The sound of tires crunching over gravel brought her out of the barn. It was Mark. He looked like he’d had a rough night too. They met on the lawn, facing each other a few feet apart, not meeting each others eyes, neither knowing where to start. Finally Mark broke the ice.

“I’m sorry. I reacted badly. I said things I didn’t mean.”

“I’m sorry too. You were right though. I was broken. There are things you don’t know about me, that no one knew until I told my mother last night. I promise I’ll explain everything.”

He nodded. “I shouldn’t have accused you of having sex with a Yaut’ja. That was low.”

She was about to respond when there was an electric crackle nearby and said Yaut’ja appeared. _Of course he did._ Lia’s heart flew to her throat. She looked back and forth between her husband and the masked male who had wished her to be his mate.

“Ri’al.”

“Ly’a”

“Is this him?” She nodded at Mark’s inquiry.

Why of all moments, did he have to come back at this one? For that matter, why was he back at all? Easiest way to find out was to ask. “Why are you here Ri’al?” She congratulated herself on keeping her voice even, though she was certain he could hear the pounding of her heart.

“I was wrong,” the gravelly voice stated. “I took away choice. I dishonored you.” She was stunned at his declaration. He was apologizing, in the only way he knew how. “Want you as mate. Always want.” She could see Mark clench his fists in her periphery. This was simply too much. She’d just reconciled herself to never seeing him again, and here he was, asking her to be his mate again. He stood before her in all his magnificence, more humble than she could have imagined. Her soul yearned to say yes, but she balked. What kind of life would it really be? Yes, he was giving her a choice now, but would it just be a new cage? Would she be giving up her newfound freedom? What she really needed was to find herself, and she couldn’t do that if he controlled her life, could she? Then there was Mark, standing beside her, wisely restraining himself. No doubt he wished he could pound his rival into the ground, but that was suicide and he knew it.

“I can’t Ri’al. I can’t go with you.” A silent tear traced down her pale cheek. Two days ago she would never have believed it was possible to cry so much. “I care about you, more than you’ll ever know, but I need to be my own person.” She could see him tense. “I wish only the best for you. I hope you can find someone that can make you happy; that can give you what you want.” She wasn’t sure if he’d understand the human gesture, but she needed it for her own closure. She walked up to him and took his hand, his huge, gray, clawed hand, in her own, and gripped it tight. She placed her other hand on his armored shoulder and, standing on tiptoes, kissed him gently on his jaw, below the edge of the mask. And with that, she once again walked away and didn’t look back.

Ri’al stared at her retreating form. His skin tingled where she’d made contact, and that pain in his chest had returned tenfold. He watched until she’d disappeared into the dwelling, her human mate following. He’d failed. When he’d seen her again, he’d been so certain that she’d change her mind, now that he’d given her the choice, but she didn’t. His world crumpled around him. He walked slowly back to his ship, not even bothering to cloak, too lost in thought to care. He’d need to pick another female. He wouldn’t bother trying to get to know her. It would not matter as she wouldn’t be Ly’a. Any other would simply be a vessel for his offspring. He’d do his duty, complete the orders of his sire, but there’d be no joy in it.

When they entered the kitchen, her mother was staring out the window. “Was that him?” Lia nodded. Despite the conviction she’d felt moments ago, a sense of emptiness was taking over. She blindly made her way to the living room, Mark on her heels.

“Now that he’s gone, we can continue our conversation.” She barely heard him. Blood was pounding in her veins, drowning out all other sound. She couldn’t think…

“I want a divorce.”

“What?!” Mark was staring at her in shock. “But…but I thought we could talk, patch things up. The alien is gone. He’s not an issue any more.”

She turned and faced him, stared into his confused and hurt eyes so he would be sure to understand. “You are a good man, Mark. A very good man, and you deserve better. I married you for the wrong reasons; because you were safe and easy. You’ve never pushed me, never asked me to step out of my comfort zone. But I needed that push. I’ve needed it for the last decade. It may have come from a totally unexpected direction, but I can’t go back. I need to move forward now and I can’t do that if I’m clinging to the past. I hope you can forgive me one day.”

Mark stared at her, a lexicon of emotions passing across his features. He kept preparing to say something, then would think better of it, until a minute later when he almost would again. He never did though. Eventually he got up and walked away. Ten minutes later she watched him leave the house with an overnight bag. When he was gone, her mother, who’d stayed quietly out of the way, but had heard everything, sat beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. “You made the right choice, sweetheart.”

“Did I?” The feeling of hollowness refused to go away. Her heart wouldn’t accept it. Not Mark. It readily released him, but… “Oh god! I did make the wrong choice!” Ly’a dashed up the stairs, her mother’s confused voice in her wake. The pounding blood was back, but this time her focus was so acute that she didn’t even notice. She grabbed a small duffle bag and started throwing things in it, a few clothes, some jewelry she’d made herself. She did however pull off her wedding and engagement rings, leaving them on the dresser. She ran back down stairs past her mother, grabbing her datapad off the coffee table and a few pictures off the shelf. At the last moment she grabbed the Masai drum as well. Her mother had come into the room behind her, still at a loss for what had suddenly gotten into her daughter, though it began to dawn on her when she saw the bag.

“You’re going to him.”

“I have to Mom. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life if I don’t. That’s my future, the great unknown. It’s what I need. I only hope he’s not gone!”

Her mother pulled her into a fierce hug. “I love you, Lia. I love you now and forever.” Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“I love you, too. So much. And my love will never fade, even from the stars.” She hugged her again. “Please take care of everyone for me,” she cried, meaning her animals.

“I promise. I think it’s time I moved back out to the country anyway.” The smiles they gave each other were bittersweet. “Now go. Don’t keep him waiting.” Lia gave her one last look, trying to memorize the woman whom she’d never truly appreciated. Then she was flying out of the house toward the barn. Only minutes later, she was galloping across the field on Titan, bareback, bag strapped across her chest and hair streaming behind her. She’s never been one to pray for anything, but at that moment she did. She prayed to whatever entity would listen that he was still there, that he hadn’t left her behind. The trees flew past as they raced down the trail.

Ri’al had taken his time getting back to the ship, loath to leave behind what he desired more than anything. He had no concept of a broken heart, but if he did, he’d know that his had shattered. Once he was back onboard, he sat in his control chair simply staring at the blank screen, eventually pulling up a map of his Clan’s territory. He would pick somewhere far from here to go; perhaps north, to the colder regions. He already felt like he’d never be warm again. Why not make it a reality? A sensor beeped shrilly, alerting him to something approaching the ship. It was currently cloaked so he wasn’t concerned, but he pulled up a thermal image of the surrounding woods anyway. He was functioning on autopilot, his training driving his actions. A large heat source was moving toward the clearing quite fast. He turned on the exterior audio and that’s when he heard it, the most beautiful sound he could imagine: Ly’a calling his name.

“ _Ri’al!_ ” She’d started screaming before they’d even reached the treeline. “ _Ri’al!_ ” She pulled Titan up short at the edge of the vacant clearing. _Oh god, he’s gone!_ She felt numb. She’d made the most important decision of her life and she’d missed the boat. Lia barely kept her seat when Titan shied in fright at the doorway that opened in empty air. Her breath hitched and a sob escaped her lips. _He’s here. He’s still here…_ She was off the horse and sprinting across the space between them, launching herself into his arms as he met her on the ramp.

Ri’al clung to the tiny creature that clung to him. He had no name for the emotions that assaulted him. She was here. She’d come back to him. That was all that mattered. He had no concept of passing time. At some point she leaned back and stared into his eyes, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. “I chose you.” There was no need to say more. Eventually he set her down, his hearts momentarily seizing when she walked away. It was only to retrieve the bag she’d dropped though. Her horse, Titan, he remembered, stood nearby, grazing. The beast deserved his designation now, for bringing Ly’a to him. Dropping the bag at his feet, she reached down and grasped the handle of the dagger tucked into his greaves, slidding it from the sheath. “Need to borrow this for a minute.” She walked away without waiting for permission. She was his mate now. His Mate. All that was his was hers. There was no need to ask.

Walking toward Titan, Lia crooned to him softly. He lifted his big head and pressed it to her chest as he was wont to do. She hugged him, leaning her forehead on his poll, between his ears. “I’m going to miss you big guy. Maybe more than anything else. Mom will take care of you. She’ll probably even bake you horse cookies. She’s crazy like that.” Releasing his head, she brought up the knife and sliced through a chunk of his mane. Blonde strands in hand, she pulled off his bridle, and with one last kiss on his big, soft nose, she slapped him on the rump, sending him trotting off into the trees. Once again, _hopefully for the last time_ , she felt her eyes fill with tears. She wiped them away quickly. Now was not a time for crying. Ri’al looked puzzled when she returned to his side. “Why release Titan,” he asked.

“He’ll be ok, he knows the way home.” She glanced up into his beautiful amber eyes. “And so do I.”


	9. One Way Ticket

**Chapter 9: One Way Ticket**

_Fuck, I made the wrong decision. Again._

Lia was sitting in the lounge, contemplating breaking into the liquor cabinet. Getting drunk seemed like an excellent solution for her current state of boredom and apathy. Ri’al was in his gym, doing some sort of crazy acrobatic shit with his weapons. He did that a lot. She’d enjoyed watching him at first, he was impressive on an unprecedented level, but even watching his abs got old eventually. She’d brought her datapad, which was handily loaded with a couple hundred books, music and pictures of home, but the battery had died days ago, and despite Ri’al’s promise to figure out a way to power it, it was currently a glorified paperweight. ‘Bored’ was not a state of mind she handled well.

The honeymoon had been epically short. Like, not even a day. After their rather romancey-novel reunion, Ri’al had piloted them off planet almost before she realized it. Perhaps he’d been concerned she’d change her mind. He’d at least been thoughtful enough to put them in orbit for a bit so she could look back at Earth. No matter how many pictures, videos, and CGI renditions she’d seen, nothing even fractionally compared. The beauty brought yet more ( _how is that even possible?_ ) tears to her eyes. Every human should have the chance to see their planet from the heavens. If they did, perhaps they wouldn’t be in such a hurry to destroy it. There were simply no adjectives adequate enough to describe it.

All too soon they were leaving though, speeding away to a future life she could barely imagine. It surprised, shocked, and kind of scared her how empty space was. There was just nothing there. Logically she knew space was a big place, and you couldn’t just sit above Earth’s atmosphere and wave hello to Mars and Jupiter, but still… Everything was so _far_. Ri’al said it would take around 20 cycles to reach the Clanship. It took a little finagling with the language barrier to establish that a cycle, being a Yaut’ja day, was equivalent to 40 Earth hours. So, around a month, if they didn’t stop anywhere. Not that there appeared to be anywhere to stop. With no idea how far away the Clanship was, and not being particularly gifted in math to begin with, Lia hadn’t the foggiest how fast they were moving. She just settled on ‘warp speed.’

Once Earth had been left in their figurative dust, Ri’al gave her a full tour of the ship, her new home for however long. She actually asked if he had an apartment on the Clanship, but he replied in the negative. Not being able to explain such concepts as spaceship design with his limited human vocabulary and her five word understanding of Yaut, he eventually pulled up a holographic image for her and attempted to identify the different parts. As best she could figure out, hunters like Ri’al, that had their own ships, moored them like boats in a marina to the sides of the city-sized vessel. Their ship would have a walkway, kind of like the ones used to board an airplane, and would continue to be their home while on the Clanship. Elders and other high ranking Yaut’ja had permanent quarters on the Clanship, in addition to their own ships, and there were barrack style accommodations for those without ships and members of the Eta class, which she came to understand were servants.

She’d already seen the control room, loading bay and lounge. Aside from the various mechanical and engine spaces, there was a smallish kitchen full of strange implements; a gym, which Ri’al called a _kehrite_ , where the walls were lined with an arsenal’s worth of weaponry, from the primitive to the frighteningly high-tech; a small medical bay she wanted nothing to do with; and their living quarters. The bedroom was dominated by an enormous bed, which Lia was fairly certain occupied more floorspace than the entire square footage of her old bedroom. The wall at the head of the bed was curved, and decorated with an elaborate stylized relief depicting hunters and prey in various action scenes. There were inlays of bone, gems and metals. The whole thing was breathtaking and she itched to examine it in detail. The bed itself was oval in shape and could easily accommodate a couple of Yaut’ja. Draped over it was a black fur the size of a mammoth that felt like cashmere. Other than that, there was very little in the room aside from smooth metal walls. She assumed there was storage hiding in them somewhere, like in the lounge.

Through the door to the left was a bathing room, complete with a tub the size of a swimming pool. It was full and steam rose from the surface. Like most of the rooms, the walls were curved, rather than the harsh straight lines that humans build with. Ri’al showed her how to operate the shower which was more like a waterfall. Running along half the wall, starting around 5 feet high and ending around a foot off the floor was a long, two foot wide and maybe six inch deep “basin” with a wide lip. It had a constant stream of water flowing through it, kind of like an aqueduct. This she came to understand was both the sink, at the high end (or the middle for her) and the toilet at the low end. It would take some getting used to. Ri’al showed her the storage panel that hid soft, absorbent furs that acted as towels. When she dipped her hand in the water and found it had a slightly thicker consistency than what she was used to, he did his best to convey that the water contained microbes or nanites, or something of that ilk, that cleaned you, negating the need for soaps or toothpaste. Kind of weird, but she’d learn to deal.

The final room he showed her, through the door to the right, was his trophy room, or as Lia came to call it: The Natural History Museum of the Known Universe. Now, Lia had always had mixed feelings about hunting. She’d never had a problem with those who killed cleanly and used the entire animal, but trophy hunting just for the trophy bothered her. She still wasn’t clear where Ri’al fell in the hunter spectrum. The trophy room though, was immense, and very full. There was hardly a bare spot on the walls and a number of very large and very-much-not-from-Earth skulls were prominently mounted on floating pedestals. The one closest to the door vaguely resembled a Triceratops, except it had eight horns, six eye sockets and the bone was green.

“Did you hunt…kill…all of these?” She asked, slowly making her way into the space, examining the strange and stranger.

He grunted behind her, Ri’al-speak for affirmative. Every skull, and a few other choice body parts, was polished to a high sheen and the whole collection was artfully mounted in a way that drew your eye to particular pieces. “May I touch them?” Her hand hovered in the air before a square-ish cranium with two foot long fangs.

“Sei-i. May touch. Are my mate.” As she ran her fingertips along one of the giant teeth, she felt the feather light touch of claws run up arms sending a corresponding shiver down her spine. She moved to the next skull, this one an iridescent black and more insect exoskeleton than actual bone. As her hands ran over the carapace, Ri’al twined his mandibles in her hair, moving a hand to span her stomach. It would appear that having her caress his trophies was a major turn-on. Morbid, yes, but hey, she’d heard of weirder things that got people horny. To be honest she’d have been far more creeped out if the room was filled with glass-eyed taxidermy. Bone had a natural, sculptural beauty to it. She turned to a skull on a nearby pedestal, which was translucent. Her Yaut’ja’s attentions were having the desired effect and she could feel herself getting wet.

Then it all went to hell. Lia, while very much distracted by Ri’al’s touch, focused on the wall past the skull before her and froze. _It can’t be…_ But it was. Grouped in a circular pattern were a good two dozen small round skulls. Human skulls. _Oh. My. God._ Happy horny feeling vanished and she actually thought her heart might have stopped.

Ri’al knew immediately when Ly’a’s aroused state evaporated. He momentarily wondered why she was upset, then realized she had no idea Yaut’ja hunted oomans, that _he_ hunted oomans. It wouldn’t bother him to see a Yaut’ja skull in a trophy collection. Arbitrators often kept those of high profile bad bloods they killed. But oomans were different. Death was not viewed at all the same way. This he was only just beginning to understand.

“I-I…is that…are those what I think they are? Please tell me they’re not.”

“Are ooman.”

She felt the burn of bile in her throat. “And you, you killed them?”

“Sei-i. Yaut’ja hunt oomans. Thousands of seasons. Oomans very good prey.”

She had no idea how to respond to that. She’d just eloped with a serial killer.

Ri’al felt he needed to diffuse this situation before it escalated and he had one of those hysterical females he so despised on his hands. “Not hunt oomans now. Protected. Only for breeding. Hunt only bad bloods. Take to other planet.”

“Bad bloods? Oh…” understanding dawned as she got hit by the clue bus. It made a sick sort of sense now; the women and the criminals. Why those were the only people they wanted. Yaut’ja, for whatever reason, needed women for breeding, _that’s a discussion we’re going to have to have asap,_ and they took the prisoners so they would still have humans to hunt. The gulf between their respective cultures just widened to rival the Grand Canyon. This was the first time when she’d really, truly realized how _alien_ he was. That she’d just given up everything for a creature she knew nothing about.

It was too much to process all at once. She stumbled out of the room, all the way back to the lounge, far away from the house of horrors. Ri’al made no attempt to stop her, just followed a few feet behind. She collapsed into the pillows. The roller coaster of emotions she’d been riding the last few days was finally catching up. She lay there, staring into space, trying to make sense of everything. All too soon her mind gave up the fight and she fell into a deep sleep. Ri’al simply crouched nearby and watched her.

Lia woke, warm, comfortable and feeling very well rested. She snuggled into the incredibly soft blanket, not willing to leave her happy little cocoon. It was several minutes before she fully remembered where she was, why she was there, and why she wasn’t so certain she wanted to be anymore. Sleep had cleared her mind though and allowed her to examine things objectively. _I’m not on Earth anymore. I’m basically married to an alien. He’s a hunter that just happens to have formerly hunted humans. He’s not planning on hunting me. I faced my inner demons and made the decision to come here. It was my choice. I need to get up and face it. I said this was my future so let’s try to make it a good one._

Reluctantly she got out of the bed, wondering how she’d gotten there and how long she’d been asleep. Apparently quite some time her stomach and bladder informed her. Making a beeline for the bathroom, she collided with a large, damp, hot wall. It was Ri’al and he was very naked. Lia stumbled back a couple steps. Gaining her equilibrium once more, she stopped and stared. And stared some more. She’d never seen him without some kind of armor on, let along nothing at all. The shoulder gear had been hiding some very interesting tattoos on his shoulders. As had the wrist guards. Hey, she was a student of art, and these were definitely a form of art she liked. Then there was the elephant in the room, so to speak. Much as she resisted, her eyes had a mind of their own and travelled south. That was… _not_ going to fit. Ok, yes it was smaller than a baby, but seriously? He was impressive flaccid, and with her staring at him, there were distinct signs of life. While the basics were the same as a man, there were a few key differences. For starters, he had no testicles. He probably had them, but they were inside his body not hanging free. It was half way retracted in a sheath, but as she watched lengthened and slid all the way out. There were a series of bumps and ridges running down the shaft which ended in a soft point rather than the bulbous head of humans. Lia swallowed and Ri’al purred. _Shit I have to pee!_ She dashed past him into the bathroom, leaving a disappointed male in her wake.

Ri’al could see his female was still flustered when she returned, the heat and color prominent on her cheeks. He sighed, resigned that he’d have to wait a little longer to complete their mating. Due to the bi-polar quality of their females, Yaut’ja males learned early on how to control their arousal. She’d been asleep for nearly half a cycle. He figured she was probably hungry, knowing oomans had to be fed more frequently, and his suspicion was confirmed when her stomach began growling.

“Come. Eat.” Lia gave him a grateful look. They entered the kitchen and he motioned her toward the freestanding table. She was just wondering if they’d ever heard of chairs when a pedestal stool rose up almost beneath her, causing her to squeak and jump out of the way. Only then did she notice several circles flush with the floor. Clambering up onto the too-high stool, to sit at the too-high table, feeling like a toddler in a high-chair, she watched as Ri’al opened several compartments and removed a variety of utensils and foodstuffs. He laid out several kinds of fruit, or maybe they were vegetables, on a platter and sliced them up with a knife. Next he set out a slab of unidentified meat. This too he sliced up, laying the pieces on the platter. Finally he set out a small box, which, with the tap of a button, produced a flame. He handed her a two prong “fork”.

“Eat.”

“And this stuff is?”

Ri’al huffed. Always with the questions. “Amedha,” he pointed to the meat. “Earth animal. Hunt in your forest.”

“Deer? Were they brown and smaller than my horses, with a white tail?”

“Sei-i.”

“Awesome. I love venison. And the fruits?”

He told her the names. “Good for ooman. Not make sick.” Before leaving the Clanship, he had acquired all the items on the list provided with his permit to take an ooman female. It included utensils oomans needed for eating, such as the burner to cook meat since they couldn’t eat it raw, and what food stuffs were safe. He’d stocked up a selection. Considering the animal he’d hunted, this “deer”, came from her planet, he’d figured it wouldn’t kill her.

Lia was fascinated watching Ri’al eat and hoped staring wasn’t a mortal insult. Using his claws, he’d hand off the raw strips of meat to his mandibles, which would feed them into his inner mouth. She assumed he had no more teeth than that and was swallowing stuff whole. It worked the same way with the fruit, which she was kind of surprised he ate at all. Stabbing a slice of meat with her fork, she figured the burner was pretty self explanatory and chose not to look stupid and ask if it was for her to cook with. A minute of two of browning and she was chowing down with gusto. It was a bit like camping. She wondered if they’d ever heard of salt. _Please let them have some form of seasoning. Plain old meat is going to get old fast._

Both of her most pressing needs now taken care of, Lia wondered what was next on the docket. She didn’t have to wait long. Unfortunately their destination proved to be the medical bay. She almost turned and made a run for it. Not that shots or doctor’s offices had ever really scared her, but this was alien medicine and as far as she knew she was perfectly healthy at this moment and had no need for it. She reminded herself that the Yaut’ja had given the humans very advanced medical technology, so in theory it shouldn’t be a torture chamber. As they entered, Ri’al tapped a touch screen on the wall and a Yaut’ja-size examining table rose smoothly out of the floor. He had her by the hips and up on the slab before she knew what was happening.

“Ri’al…” her voice uneasy, “what are you doing?”

“Need give medicine. Help adapt to atmosphere. Cannot leave at ooman air mix.” He pulled two large syringes out of a compartment.

She had no idea how that would work. Probably better if she didn’t know. Regardless, she understood the necessity. Ri’al had said he could only tolerate her air mix for five days. Or was it cycles? Whatever. “And the other shot, is that part of the same thing?”

“H’ko. Regulate cycle. Not bleed.” It was a strange feature of ooman females. Yaut’ja females cycled similarly, though much less frequently. However, if a Yaut’ja female cycled without becoming seeded, her body would simply absorb the uterine lining and unfertilized egg. The ooman experts had said it was a messy process for ooman females, and inconveniently frequent. They had developed hormone blockers early in the ooman testing. Once she’d gone through the genetic modifications, she’d stopped bleeding entirely.

It took her a minute to catch his drift. “You mean I won’t get my period?” He gave her a look that said he didn’t know what she was talking about and didn’t care to. The shots were over quickly and much less painfully than she’d anticipated.

Ri’al was pleased with how well his female handled the procedure. He’d been warned that many required sedation first. She would likely go back to sleep now, while the shots went into effect. He was no healer and had only a passing understanding of what was in the solutions and how they worked. His only real concern was that they did. As expected, his female started to sway back and forth. Once again, he carried her back to bed.

She woke in the bed again. Only this time she was naked. She momentarily panicked before noting that she was not at all sore, and with what she’d seen of Ri’al last time she was awake, she’d definitely be feeling it if he’d done anything. She then chastisized herself. _He wouldn’t do that to you_. She got up and went searching for her clothes, but they were no where to be found. Not wanting to wander around in her birthday suit, she was about to retrieve a towel when she noticed two pieces of leather lying on the end of the bed. Upon closer inspection they appeared to be a tank and skirt, of the Jungle Jane persuasion. _Great._ The ambient temperature was warmer than what she preferred, and apparently cooler than what Ri’al liked. They’d come to a somewhat happy medium early on. She wasn’t relishing how sticky she was going to get wearing leather in this environment, but shimmied into the outfit regardless. It fit surprisingly well, supporting her ample breasts, and best of all, was breathable. How that worked was a mystery, but she certainly wasn’t going to complain.

Ri’al paused in his training when his female entered the _kehrite_. He was pleased to see her in the clothing he’d provided, though he wouldn’t have minded at all if she simply wore nothing. It had been a pleasure to undress her. He did not disrespect her and take any liberties, aside from running his hands over a bit more of her soft pale flesh. It tantalized him.

“Uh, hi.” Ri’al acknowledged her with a nod. “Whatcha doing?”

“Train.”

“I’m sorry I fell asleep again. Mind if I join you for a bit?”

“H’ko. Sit there.” He pointed at a pile of furs near the wall. He would be quite happy to demonstrate his prowess for his female. Ri’al proceeded through a series of warm up maneuvers with his _ki'cti-pa_ , spinning the combi-stick staff around his body and making thrusts at invisible opponents. While singularly focused on his efforts, he stole a glance at his audience every so often. She watched him with rapt attention, seemingly impressed. He even caught a subtle whiff of _n’dui’se_. Good, very good. Exercises complete, he next donned his mask and set a sparring program using the touchscreen on the wall. Taking his place at the center of the room, a series of holographic opponents appeared. Some were other Yaut’ja, some were prey species. It was a sophisticated system that never played the same scenario twice. Any contact with an adversary resulted in electrical jolt. Foes defeated, he retrieved his _al'nagara_ and slipped on his right hand gauntlet.

“Hey,” his female called, getting his attention. He looked up to find her walking over. “I’ve been wondering what this is,” she grabbed his arm, turning it this way and that, inspecting the wristguard. “It seems too bulky to be just armor, but I haven’t seen you using it as a computer like the other one.”

“Is _dah'kte._ ” Holding his arm out to the side, he released the long blades, slowly for dramatic effect. He chuckled at the look on his female’s face.

Lia was in awe. No martial arts movie had ever compared to this display of fighting skills. Ri’al moved with a grace that belied his size. There was a fluid conservation of movement that spoke of years and years of training. _He’s over 300 years old. Of course he’s good. Damn, I’d forgotten about that. Yeah, no, still can’t wrap my brain around it._ When he dialed up the 3D enemies it was like being inside a video game. First he took them on with his double-ended spear, which she realized was the bar she’d seen him carrying in Africa. She found herself holding her breath when it was four-on-one, and wanting to cheer when he kicked their asses. This was so cool. Next he fought with a sword in one hand and a pair of terrifying serrated blades, two feet long, that had slid out of his wristguard. Those were just crazy. He was quite simply amazing, and watching his muscles play under his gray skin got her all hot and bothered. When he’d finished, he prepared another meal for her, similar to the first, but with a few new options.

That, however, was around the time her enjoyment of this little adventure began to wane. Ri’al, she discovered had a very set routine. He was either in his _kehrite_ , in the control room, or in the house of horrors polishing his skulls. She was welcome to watch him do any of these activities, though he spoke very little. She’d hoped he would answer more of her questions now that they were on their way, but he was almost as tight-lipped as ever. She resorted to reading on her datapad until the battery was out of juice. Their first argument, since his original “proposal”, came when he asked her to join him in the trophy room and she refused unless he got rid of the human skulls. Ri’al was furious that she would suggest such a thing and physically picked her up and deposited her on another pile of furs in the corner of the room. She was starting to feel like his dog. He fed her, made little beds for her, and occasionally gave her a pat on the head. 

Ri’al, for his part, couldn’t understand why his female wasn’t content. Didn’t he provide her with everything she needed? Was she not allowed to watch him as he conducted all his daily business? What more did she want? Yes, he knew she wanted her primitive device powered, but in his opinion she was better off without it. Best she didn’t dwell on ooman things. Still, she evidently needed more mental stimulation; otherwise she might revert to destructive behaviors. And the worst insult of all? Despite all his efforts, she still refused to mate with him. It was becoming very difficult to lie beside her as she slept and not touch her. He could scent her arousal sometimes, but she could turn it off in an instant. The whole situation was very frustrating. Perhaps he needed to pay her more direct attention. She needed training in behavior and expectations before they reached the Clanship anyway. He could not have her embarrassing him. Yes, he’d begin her training next cycle.

And thus, that is how Ri’al came to find Ly’a in the lounge with a large knife from the food preparation room strategizing burglary just to get shit-faced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear from readers what you think. Love it? Hate it? Is any of this coming across as believable?


	10. Rhythm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M rating goes into full effect in this chapter. If you're offended by a Human getting it on with a Yaut'ja, I can't imagine why you're reading this story, but I'd suggest you leave now. Otherwise, enjoy.

**Chapter 10: Rhythm**

With a growl and a lunge, Ri’al was on top of her, pinning her body and snatching the knife from her fingers. _Destructive behavior indeed_. What reason could she possibly have for secreting the blade from the other room? Did she wish to harm him? Harm herself? He hovered over her, growling low and searching her eyes for an answer. She, surprisingly showed no fear, only crossed her arms and stared back at him spitefully. “What? I wanted a drink and you never showed me how to open the cabinet. I thought I could pry it with the knife.”

“ _H’ko_ _c’ntlip_ ,” he stated, anticipating that she would submit and obey. He should have realized by now she rarely did what he expected. Instead of backing down, she shoved ineffectually at his chest and made a grab for the knife.

“Give it back, you prick! If you’re not going to get me a drink then I’m damn well going to figure out a way to get one on my own.” His rumbling growl filled the room and yet in no way intimidated her. Plan A failing, Lia attempted to squirm out from beneath Ri’al’s large form. He responded by pinning her to the cushions with a heavy hand on her chest. Plan C was to kick him in the balls, except he didn’t have any that were vulnerable to an attack, plus he might just kill her for that. She may be bored to tears, but she wasn’t ready to die just yet. Huffing and pouting, she refused to me his eyes. They were obviously both stubborn to a fault and this stalemate wasn’t likely to end any time soon. Lia sighed, giving up the hopeless fight. “Why don’t you talk to me any more? My greatest fear in coming with you was that you’d just use me for breeding your “pups” and ignore me the rest of the time. Is this how it’s going to be? When I’m not your fucktoy am I just your pet?”

Ri’al was speechless. Was this really how she felt? He was ensuring her basic needs were met, but was he still neglecting her?

When he didn’t say anything, she continued, now staring at the hand on her chest, feeling the need to trace the strange pebbled skin with a finger. “I don’t know what I expected. We’re so different. Vastly different. I didn’t think it was insurmountable though. Everything seemed so amazing when we first met; well, aside from you trying to kill me,” she gave a snort of amusement. “When we talked, when you took me to Africa, it seemed like we were two halves of the same whole. I’ve never experienced anything like that. I’ve never been able to be myself around anyone else before. And yes, I’m very attracted to you, but there’s more to it than just the physical. That’s not enough. I need that connection we had. I can’t go on like this, with nothing to do and no companionship from you.”

 He contemplated her words. It was true that their interactions were much more pleasant on her world. In hindsight she’d had many interests and many activities to occupy her. Believing she would accept such a sudden shift in her living patterns was an oversight on his part. He had simply assumed she would acclimate to his solitary lifestyle. Except it wasn’t solitary anymore, and wouldn’t be again. He was woefully under-prepared for this. But how could he have known? This type of relationship was not one his kind embraced. Oomans are emotional creatures, he reminded himself; they are clever and adaptable. He was a Blooded Warrior. There was no reason he should not be able to meet this challenge head-on and conquer it. He needed to be creative in his approach to this situation.

He’d been silent for so long Lia glanced up and found him staring at the pillow over her left shoulder, lost in thought. “Please Ri’al. Please talk to me.” At the sound of her voice he snapped out of his trance and met her eyes.

“Not speak ooman good,” he stated in his gravelly voice.

“That’s ok! I can teach you. I want to teach you. And I want to learn your language too. At least as best I can since I can’t click and stuff.” Ri’al was surprised all over again by his female. She was much more intelligent than he was giving her credit for. She was right, he had been treating her like a pet; not a female, not his mate. Once again he’d dishonored her without realizing it and now needed to redeem himself. “My Dad used to tell me stories from his travels, about how he’d meet people that knew no English and he knew none of their language, and yet somehow they’d manage to converse and become friends. We can do this. I know you’re super smart, and probably light years better at learning languages than I am. Please, can we at least try?”

“Sei-i. Would like.” He sat back up, lifting his weight from her chest. “I dishonor. Not consider needs. Try more. Try better.”

“Thank you,” She said.

And so they tried to meet each other in the middle. Ri’al grudgingly conceded to his mate and put his ooman trophies in storage to appease her. She was then thrilled to hear tales of each and every hunt his trophies represented. He took the time to teach her about various aspects of the ship, utilizing the holo-imager to supplement when he didn’t have the words. She was a quick study. Lia dug through his many containers of tradable goods and found a variety of items she began fussing over, to what end he didn’t know. She said it was a surprise. He also allowed her to raid the food stores, segregating those items he was unsure were edible for her, and she proceed to experiment with different mixtures and cooking techniques. Though he hadn’t had any installed prior to leaving on his mate hunt, there were several new fixtures available for food preparation which had been developed specifically for feeding oomans. He’d have to look into getting some, as his female seemed to enjoy the process. She’d even convinced him to try a few things she’d made and he’d been pleasantly surprised.

Best of all, she was once again receptive to his advances, though she’d yet to consent to full breeding. Instead they explored each other’s bodies, she tentatively, and he holding himself back. Ly’a had appeared delighted to learn that the thick strands of his hair were an erogenous zone. She proved quite the tease, running her hands up and down the smooth tubes in a suggestive manner and playing with the rank rings. She found his markings fascinating, complementing the various patterns and colors. He explored every unclothed inch of her body searching for scars, asking the story behind each one he discovered, and offering up stories of his own when she found a scar of his that interested her. They were mutually intrigued with one another’s tattoos, fumbling through their explanations of the meanings. His were related to rights of passage and successful hunts of certain prey; hers were a testament to overcoming trials in her life which she wasn’t prepared to divulge just yet. He did not push her. They had time.

It had taken some tinkering, but Ri’al had eventually figured out a way to power Ly’a’s datapad. It was still a temporary measure. He planned to have Syra’kai download all its data and create a new device for her when they reached the Clanship. Perhaps he’d even see what kinds of translation programs were available. It might help her to learn Yaut if she could compare it to her ooman stories. Today though, he had spent a good portion of the cycle in the engine room running diagnostics, attempting to discover the source of a small power drain. Annoyed at his lack of success, he stalked back toward the living quarters, in the beginnings of a foul mood. Passing the lounge, he stopped dead and stared, mouth and mandibles hanging open. Ly’a was bouncing around the space, singing at the top of her lungs along with music coming from the datapad. 

She spun around, eyes closed, arms in the air, hips swaying to the beat. Ri’al was at a loss. He’d never seen her like this. When she did open her eyes, she fixed them on his, without breaking her movements or song. Maintaining eye contact, she swiveled her hips side to side, undulating her form with a grace he’d never realized she possessed. Her hands ran down the sides of her body, tracing her curves seductively, before heading back up and twining into her hair. She slowly sashayed towards him, and he felt his loincloth begin to grow tight.

The song ended and another began, causing her to squeal in delight. She dashed forward and grabbed his hand before dragging him into the center of room. With both of his hands in hers, she swayed to the beat, pulling his arms back and forth, encouraging him to do he knew not what.

“Come on. Dance with me,” Ly’a whined. He remained still and simply shook his head. Yaut’ja did _not_ dance. Well, maybe they did in rituals, but it was certainly nothing like this. She made a plaintive sound and rolled her eyes. “Pleeeaaassseee… I promise its fun!” He grumbled. What could it hurt? Glancing around, as if to make sure no one was watching, Ri’al began to lightly shift his weight back and forth on the balls of his feet, attempting to find a rhythm that mimicked hers. Ly’a’s smile was radiant as she began to move his arms again. He soon found his twin hearts beating in time to the sound.

Ly’a began to sing aloud again, varying her movements more and more as he got comfortable with his own. Soon she was pulling him around, lifting his arm to twirl underneath. Watching her, touching her as they danced, he thought she had never looked more beautiful. Her peals of laughter were infectious and he found himself grinning too. _H'ulij-bpe  ooman._ At this point he was willing to do most anything for more physical contact. Despite the small explorations of each other’s bodies, it was far less than what he desired.

Another new song started, this one of slower, mournful quality. Ly’a stopped her bouncing, breathing heavily from her exertion. Without saying a word, she stepped close to him, her breasts just barely grazing his chest. Running her fingers down his arm, scarcely touching, she took his hand and gently placed it on her hip. Repeating the process, with the other, she reached her own around his torso and laid her head against him. She then began to sway gently in time to the music, moving him with her. He could feel her breath on his skin, her soft hands clutching at his lower back. He ran his fingers lightly up her spine, feeling the dampness of perspiration on her bare flesh. He could care less what had brought on this sudden change. His female was willingly in his arms which was all that mattered.

_I've been believing in something so distant_  
As if I was human  
And I've been denying this feeling of hopelessness  
In me, in me

_All the promises I made_  
Just to let you down  
You believed in me, but I'm broken

_I have nothing left_  
And all I feel is this cruel wanting  
We've been falling for all this time  
And now I'm lost in paradise

She smelled wonderful, that sweet scent, with just a hint of spiciness that he couldn’t get enough of. Ri’al dipped his head, combing his mandibles though her long copper hair, feeling the fine strands, so different from his own, slip gently across them. She removed one hand from his back and brought it around to trace the scars on his chest with a feather-light touch, eliciting a gentle purr from deep within him. His claws ran down her back, ghosting over each vertebra, pebbling her skin in their wake and causing her to shudder. Eyes closed, he was lost in her scent and her touch, the feeling of her skin beneath his hands and her body pressed to his.

_As much as I'd like the past not to exist_  
It still does  
And as much as I'd like to feel like I belong here  
I'm just as scared as you

_I have nothing left_  
And all I feel is this cruel wanting  
We've been falling for all this time  
And now I'm lost in paradise

When the haunting song ended, the silence almost deafening. Ly’a looked up at him then and he saw twin trails of wetness running down her cheeks. Without a word she stepped back, her eyes lowering from his. Ri’al felt a twinge behind his sternum, reminiscent of the strange pains he’d experienced when he’d thought he’d lost her. What had he done now? She was upset. How was he ever supposed to understand her when one moment she was smiling and laughing and the next tears falling in this bizarre ooman expression of sadness? She turned to leave and he braced for her impending absence, however this time she did not release his hand as she walked away. He followed obediently, submission to a female second nature. She never looked at him as she led him to their sleeping quarters.

Drawing him with her, she walked silently to the bed, where she turned and placed a hand on his abdomen, applying pressure until he sat and lay back on the furs. Satisfied she climbed up to straddle him. It could have been moments or cycles that she sat there, staring into his eyes, and he back into hers. They were fathomless. The greens and browns and grays bled together. He felt a touch, her touch, the gentle brush of her fingertips as they drew across the ridge of his brow, following the contours around his eye, feeling the rubbery texture of the spines, tracing down his upper tusk and along the length of his mandible. His eyes closed involuntarily, a moan-like purr emanating from deep within.

Then, the strangest and yet most thrilling sensation. His eyes flicked open to find that her soft ooman lips were pressed to the same spot where her caress had begun. Her hands cupped either side of his face as she kissed a trail across his skin, tripping nerve endings Ri’al didn’t even know he had. His eyes drifted closed again, as he lost himself in her touches, so unlike any he had ever felt before.

Ly’a kissed along his mandible, making her way in no hurry toward the tusk at its end. His skin here was fine compared to the rest of his body, just smooth, warm flesh stretched over strong tendon and bone. She returned to his brow and started down the opposite side, pausing only to trace the clan mark burned into the flesh of his forehead, a crescent with a pair of offset perpendicular lines. She had never found him ugly, only strange and foreign. His mouth and mandibles had certainly been disconcerting at first. Now though, they were just part of him, and she found the entire package beautiful and enticing. Every spot, scar and sharp point.

This time, as she reached his mandible, Ly’a drew her tongue along its length, causing the vibrating purr beneath her to stutter, then increase twofold. She could feel warmth and wetness pool at her center. No doubt he could smell her arousal. Even with her weak human senses, she could smell the curious aroma of his musk. She smiled as his hands came up to grasp her thighs, his thumb stroking the long scar on her left, before continuing to taste his skin. She pulled the tusk that tipped his mandible into her mouth and sucked on it lightly, caressing it with her tongue as she would another, larger, appendage. His eyes snapped opened and met hers, looking positively scandalized. She gently pulled it back, kissing the amazingly soft pink skin inside his cheek, working her way toward the intimidating fangs of his lipless maw.

Each tooth was a good two inches long, and wickedly sharp. She carefully traced each one with the tip of her tongue until the forked end of his own long one peaked out to meet hers. She guessed that his kind didn’t kiss, certainly not in the human fashion, so this was likely a first for him. She touched the forked tips with her shorter, rounded organ, encouraging him to explore. She enjoyed being the teacher and he was an admirably avid student. Ly’a quickly invited him into her own mouth, where he traced every tooth, gum and taste bud. They kissed forever it seemed, his giant hands kneading her legs and hips, claws lightly scratching, as she caressed every inch of his face. Finally she drew away and met his gorgeous amber eyes.

“Can I take this off?” She asked, tugging the wide metal collar that hid his throat with the tip of a finger. He looked at her quizzically, silently asking why. It was one of the most vulnerable parts of a Yaut’ja’s body, and they religiously kept it protected. “Will you trust me?” He searched her eyes for a few moments further, plumbing their depths for any sign of a threat. Apparently finding none, he released his hold on her thighs to reach behind his neck and remove the vestigial armor. She knew this was a huge concession for him, and a declaration of his trust in her. She promised herself at that moment that she would not disappoint him.

Resuming her earlier attention to his mandible, she worked her lips outward, kissing every inch of his now exposed neck, inching her hands up into his hair at the same time. The skin was so soft, untouched, begging to be feasted on. She drew upwards with her tongue; blowing on the damp path she’d left and feeling him shiver between her thighs. With a smirk, she pushed the envelope and bit gently with her teeth, holding the roll of skin as he tensed, only letting go when he began to breathe again. Low growls and purrs were pouring from his throat, matched by strangely similar ones from her own. She worked her way lower. Lips, tongue and fingers traced and tasted every ridge and scar on his chest and stomach. Sometimes kissing, sometimes nipping. _When did I develop a fetish for scars?_ She’d inched back far enough now that her core was hovering over a prominent bulge.

She stopped her exploration and sat up to pull her top over her head and unclasp her loincloth. She took his hand and held it up, pressing his palm to her own. Ly’a marveled at the differences. Not just size, her fingertips barely reached the first joints of his digits, but the color and texture. His palms were the pale, dove gray of his stomach, speckled around the edges with dark gray freckles that made way quickly for the pewter shade of his body. His talons were glossy black and pointed. _How is he so gentle with me? How is it he doesn’t rend me with every touch?_ She kissed the pad of each fingertip, knowing in her soul that he would never hurt her. He was a dangerous predator, but he was hers. She placed his hand on her breast.

Ri’al was lost in the foreign sensations she created. There was nothing he could compare it to. He let himself drift on the waves of pleasure, unable to comprehend how such soft touches could affect him so deeply. His arousal was almost painful. He’d tensed when he’d felt her teeth on his throat, subconsciously knowing their bluntness could do no harm, but instinctively ready to react to protect himself. Then he’d chosen to let go, to give in, to experience this to its fullest. His skin was on fire, soothed and yet further inflamed by her saliva and breath. He wanted to take her, possess her, bite and claim her in a frenzy of passion and yet he was paralyzed, hardly daring to move for fear that she would stop. It was torture of the most exquisite kind. He felt her weight settle over his impossibly hard member and his fears were realized as her mouth left his skin. Ri’al had to swallow the pleading whine that rose in his throat. He stared, transfixed as she examined his hand, testing the size, the feel. She was so small, so fragile, and yet still strong. He wanted her more than anything.

His anticipation spiked as she removed her coverings, the pink tipped globes of her milk glands free and ripe for his plucking. She placed his hand there, over her heart. He curled his fingers slowly, the tips of his claws denting the white skin. Growling a low predatory sound, she elicited a moan in response. He sat up, with Ly’a still straddling him and drew those luscious mounds to his mouth. His mandibles cradled the heavy flesh as his tongue swirled around her nipple, bringing it to a peak. One hand held her back, pressing delicate pale flesh against him, while the other went to work groping her ass. She moaned louder, gasping wildly when he grazed his teeth across her sensitive buds.

Her scent was intoxicating. Her arousal crashed over him, and his own mating musk filled the air in return. He wanted to take his time, to explore her body in the same manner she had explored his, but was too far gone to manage such restraint. With a sudden lurch, and a delightful feminine squeal, he had her beneath him, caged by his larger form. He looked deeply into her eyes, finding them dilated with desire and need. He caressed and nipped her neck with his mandibles and teeth. Running a hand down her body to find the juncture of her thighs, he dipped a finger into the hot wet heat, brushing the bundle of nerves at the top. She was so wet, so ready for him. Even in his mating haze, he knew he had to be careful. He could not breed her like a Yaut’ja female. He _would not_ hurt her, and to accomplish that he must proceed slowly, though every nerve in his body screamed at him to take her hard and violently. He pressed his finger further inside her; testing, stretching. When he added a second her back arched from the bed, head rolling back and wild moans escaping her lips. He plunged them in and out until her inner walls clamped down and she silently gasped her climax. Before Ly’a had come down from her high, he tore free his loincloth and positioned himself, plunging half his length into her depths.

She screamed. The sound reverberated around the room and inside her head as a second climax hit her almost on top of the first. It was a scream of mingled pain and pleasure as she was impaled by him. He was so large. _Too large…_ her mind cried, but her body craved more, as though she were dying and he the cure. Her inner muscles stretched and wept to accommodate his size. She was grateful that he had paused after that first intrusion. Looking up, she found his eyes closed and mandibles clenched tight, body trembling with the effort to not move. Ly’a felt the pain ebb away to be replaced with stirrings of pleasurable over-fullness. She reached up to caress his cheek, his eyes snapping open to meet hers. When they focused, she smiled, and nodded her head.

Apparently all the encouragement Ri’al needed, he pulled back and pushed in again, inch by inch. A few strokes and he was fully sheathed within her. His pace quickened, and she lifted her hips to meet every thrust. He reached places within her no human man could ever hope to touch, every ridge and bump on his member stimulating her in ways she’d never known possible. Ly’a could feel the pressure building again, knowing she was mere moments away from cresting yet again, sensing he was just as close. And then she was there, falling over the cliff, her body bucking wildly and gripping him like a vise. He roared his release seconds after hers, filling her like a chalice with his seed.

Ly’a came to with her heart pounding like it would break free from her chest and Ri’al’s weight draped over her. She could feel his hearts pounding in sync with her own. She had _never_ experienced _anything_ that could compare _in any way_ to what had just occurred. She couldn’t even wrap her brain around it. She flexed her cramped fingers, finding her nails embedded in Ri’al’s forearms, leaving halfmoons of neon green. He groaned above her and tipped sideways to lie on his side, pulling her against his body and twining his mandibles in her hair. Ly’a felt herself drifting off, never having felt safer or more content than in the arms of her beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics: Lost in Paradise by Evanescence


	11. All's Fair in Love and War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. More proverbial rolling in the hay here.

**Chapter 11: All’s Fair in Love and War**

“I need more exercise than just sex,” Ly’a declared. Ri’al was relaxing in the bath, his head resting against his mate’s stomach while she ran her hands through his tresses. She was sitting on the rim of the pool with her legs draped over his shoulders, and he was inspecting her strange, tiny feet. They were so soft and delicate, the claws blunt and useless, not attached to the bone for strength, and completely lacking in a dewclaw. No wonder oomans spent all their time on the ground.

Personally, Ri’al thought breeding was a perfectly acceptable form of physical exertion and he’d be quite happy to exert himself all cycle long. Sadly, his little ooman was very sore at the moment from their numerous romps. In fact they’d hardly left the bed in two cycles, since she’d introduced him to the many pleasures she could provide. He couldn’t get enough of her, and she seemingly felt the same way about him. Ly’a assured him she would be good as new very soon. He’d offered her a healing gel which had soothed her aches. Her body was so small it was amazing he fit inside her at all. Soreness was only to be expected. And then there were the simple pleasures of moments like this. He’d never imagined having a mate could be like this; relaxed, comfortable, peaceful.

Running a claw tip along the sole of her foot, Ri’al was rewarded with a squeal of protest and a jerk of the limb he now held. _Sensitive._ It gave him some ideas. “What want to do?” He asked, resigned that she’d not agree with him.

“I was thinking I could work out with you in the… _kehrite_.” She rolled the alien word around in her mouth, attempting the correct pronunciation. They’d been practicing words and pronunciation in Yaut while lounging between rounds.

It was a worthwhile idea. Certainly she was strong by ooman female standards, but she would loose that fitness if she just lay about the ship all day. It was important that her body be maintained as pregnancy would put a strain on it. As would the modifications, he reminded himself. There had been a few circumstances of females’ bodies rejecting the changes. Those females had subsequently died. It was not a scenario he wished to dwell on.

“I’m not asking you to beat me to a bloody pulp like you would those holograms if they were real. Just teach me some basic techniques. I’d love to learn how to spin around that spear-thing of yours.”

 “Ki'cti-pa.” She repeated the word a few times, attempting to shape the sounds correctly without the clicks and taps that she could not replicate. He’d never taught anyone before. He would not be called on to train Unbloods until he’d reached Honored status. It would be a challenge as he could not be rough with her. "Gentle" was not a concept Ri'al was overly familiar with, but for his mate he'd willingly learn.

“Ok.” An ooman word she’d taught him that he quite liked.

Future exercise having been decided on, he turned and kissed Ly’a, pulling her into the water with him. It was another ooman innovation he was very fond of.

Several cycles later found the couple facing off in the _kehrite_. Ri’al had dug some simple _d’lex_ poles out of storage for them to spar with. It could hardly be called sparring though, as they spent most of their sessions repeatedly going over the simplest concepts. Ly’a was not the most cooperative student either. She questioned him incessantly and complained much. He was beginning to rethink his assessment of her intelligence.

“Hold here. Put foot there,” he showed her for the eighth time. This endeavor was sorely testing his patience. “Strike me.” She took a swing, once again moving her hands and feet exactly where he’d told her not to. He swept her feet out from under her as a reward.

"Hey, go easy on me. I'm still new at this!" Ly’a whined. They’d been at this for hours and she was tried, sore and bruised. Ri’al had no concept of baby steps. Consequently she’d become very well acquainted with the floor. Rubbing her hip, she climbed back to her feet.

"No easy! Easy make weak. No argue."

"I would have a better chance reasoning with a root vegetable," she grumbled.

“ _Ki’cte_ female!”

“Did you seriously just call me ‘female’?”

“Sei’i! Very annoying female!” he roared in her face, mandibles flared wide.

“I am not annoying! You are! You are literally and figuratively the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met!”

Ly’a stomped forward and poked him in the chest with her staff. “You’re a fucking anal-retentive slave driver who spends his spare time worshiping the heads of dead things!”

It occurred to her, at the resonant growl she received in response, that perhaps baiting 350 lbs of honed killer was a less than bright idea. That thought was hardly complete when she found herself flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes as he stormed down the hallway.

“Put me down you overgrown iguana!” she cried with an indignant shriek, legs flailing and fists pounding ineffectually against his back. He just grunted and slapped her ass, hard. “Don’t you dare spank me! Where are you taking me?! _RI’AL_!”

“How ooman say… cool off?”

“Whuh?” Ly’a found herself sailing through the air, screaming as she plunged into the pool-sized tub. Sputtering and gasping, she looked up to see Ri’al standing above her, shoulders shaking in mirth. If looks could kill, he’d have a dagger in every major organ.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Laugh it up asshole,” she pouted and splashed at his legs, which he gracefully dodged.

“Is amusing. Should see face,” he snickered.

“Fine, you’ve had your fun. Now help me out of here.” Ri’al gave her a big ole Yaut’ja grin before reaching down to pull her out. Ly’a grasped his hand with both of hers, then, planting her feet on the side of the tub, hauled backwards with all her might. Ri’al’s eyes went wide as he found himself crashing into the water with a cannonball-worthy splash. Ly’a had already scrambled out by the time he came up for air.

“Karma’s a bitch, baby!”

Ri’al launched himself out of the pool with a roar, sending Ly’a sprinting down the hallway with an _Oh shit_! She ran as if her life depended on it, not entirely sure that it didn’t. _Oh my god, I’m trapped in this tin can with a giant raging killing machine!_ She dashed into the kitchen, a dripping Ri’al close on her heels. Dodging around the table, she ducked just as he leapt over it and managed to miss the grasping talons as she streaked back out and across the hall. She only made it a few more steps before a heavy mass tackled her, crashing them into the pillows of the sunken lounge.

Everything stopped. Ly’a held her breath, waiting for the pain of being crushed that never came. Water was dripping onto her cheek and there was weight on her back, but not nearly a whole Yaut’ja worth. She cracked her eyes to see pillows and dreds and a massive arm supporting the weight above her. There was a sharp rumble as mandibles and tusks grasped the back of her neck and something long and hard ground against her ass.Oh _…oh...I think tag might be a turn-on for someone._

Ly’a wiggled her rear and grabbed a few nearby dreds, giving them a tug with a growl of her own. She found herself abruptly yanked back onto her knees by her hips, sharp claws making short work of her top and loincloth. And then a huge gray hand was grasping her breast, squeezing just this side of too hard and another was diving between her legs to stroke her clit. Her moan was feral. Teeth were at her neck, nipping the skin, a long tongue running up to her ear to play with the rings. The low rumbles he was making were delicious. She reached back to run her hands up his inner thighs, seeking the hard member between. He growled with more force, a finger entering her roughly and claws scraping across her stomach hard enough to raise welts. She hissed in pain and pleasure.

“You want this, Mate?” he rumbled in her ear, teeth pressing into the skin below it.

“Yes. This.” She rasped back. He ripped off his own loincloth, arching her body with a hand twined in her hair. She felt him enter her slowly, ridge by ridge, pressing relentlessly forward. She was shocked all over again at how large he was; sure he would split her in two. And when he’d filled her to capacity, he pressed on her clit and was rewarded with a string of moans and another inch. Would she ever get used to this? _God I hope not_! She was panting and hissing at the sensation, shivering in delight. And then he was hilted and Ly’a wondered if anything could feel more perfect.

Ri’al wasn’t done though. He gave her a moment to adjust, pulling almost completely out before slamming back home. Ly’a groaned shamelessly. He set a brutal pace, pounding into her hard, skin slapping, primal sounds coming from them both. Clawed fingers found their way back to her nub and began to rub in earnest, tearing high pitched keens from her throat. She could feel her climax building, the tightness coiling in her nethers, readying to unleash. She wound tighter and tighter. And then she was there, screaming out the tension, screaming because Ri’al chose that moment to sheath his tusks in the flesh of her back. The pleasure overrode the pain; pain becoming part of the pleasure. He showed no signs of slowing, though her inner walls convulsed and pulsed. If anything, he rode her harder. He pinned her with his teeth, claws digging into her hips, member impaling, and Ly’a met him thrust for thrust. She came again, crying out, the climax blindsiding her. Ri’al roared deafeningly behind her, releasing his seed and sinking his talons in hard enough to draw blood.

Ri’al roared as he spent himself, her passage clenching and milking him. Sweat and water were dripping down their bodies. He felt his knees go weak and he fell to the side, not wanting to crush the exquisite creature beneath him that had just brought him to unknown heights. It had been so many seasons, but he could still remember what it was like to breed a Yaut’ja female. How it had always been a battle, with blood and pain, and incredible pleasure. _This was better_. This tiny ooman eclipsed them all.

After he’d relearned to breathe, Ri’al opened his eyes and admired the damage he’d done. Ly’a had four bloody punctures on her shoulder with a circular ring in the middle, and a row of smaller wounds on each hip. He gently licked the wounds, relishing the taste of her blood, and she looked back at him with a smirk. “That was incredible.” He purred; his female was pleased.

Ly’a winced as she moved her shoulder. “I hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, can’t have sex like that any not expect a few mementos. Especially when one of us has built-in weapons,” she said, tapping his tusk. “What’s with the biting anyway? Not that I’m opposed.”

“Mating scars. Others know you mine.” He nuzzled her neck. She huffed like she was going to protest for moment, then thought better of it. “I suppose it’s better than having your name tattooed on my ass.” Finding movement to be far too much effort, she flopped across Ri’al’s chest. She loved listening to the foreign rhythm of his twin hearts. They lay like that for some time, neither willing to move and break the spell of their afterglow. Ly’a traced her fingers over Ri’al’s scars as she was wont to do. She remembered the story of each one, testament to a fierceness she could scarce imagine.

“Will you tell me about your females,” she asked, propping her head up in such a way that she could see his eyes.

“Females great hunters. Very strong. Bigger than males.”

“It’s hard to imagine something bigger than you,” she teased. “But the females, they hunt for trophies too? All females? What about the ones with kids, pups?”

“Females hunt same as males. Males hunt to… impress… female. Make female choose for mate. Females only mate in breeding season. Choose best, strongest males to sire pups. Trophies show good hunter. Not have pup every season. Hunt when pups not drink milk.”

“So there’s a breeding season? How often is that?”

“Two time each season.”

“Once ever two years, huh. That sucks. But surely mates can sleep together whenever.”

“Not same as ooman. Not one mate. Choose new male each season. Choose best. Males fight to show strongest, make many females want seed. Only Elder choose lifemate. After many pups. Female not always want to breed. Only in season.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “Like no season better.”

Ly’a rolled her eyes. “Of course you do. You’re a guy.” She grabbed a dred and began examining one of the rings adorning it. Ri’al had told her that they represented rank achievements, earning the first during young puphood. “So who runs things? Are males and females considered equal in your society?”

“Females dominant. Are twelve Clans. Each Clan has group of Elders. Oldest and strongest. Make decisions for Clan. Leader of group is… top female. Not know word.”

“I think you’re saying that there is a _Council_ or maybe _Senate_ of Elders. Sounds a lot like the US government, although it probably works better. So this council makes the laws and decides how your society functions. And the leader of the Council is always a female? I guess you would call her a Matriarch. That’s awesome. There are so few female leaders on Earth. It would probably be a much nicer place if there were more.”

“Is strange that ooman males dominant.”

“Well, as a woman I can tell you it’s not my preference. So, females run all the Clans?”

“Sei-i. Females better to make decisions.”

“Females are better decision makers,” she corrected. “I can agree with that,” she replied with a snort. “What about your pups? You said you had two.”

“Females. Good hunters.”

“That’s it? What are they like? Do you think they’ll like me?”

“Not know. Females raise pups. Males not part.”

“That doesn’t seem fair. For either of you! What if she wants a night out or something? How are you supposed to be a good dad if you’re not involved! You’re certainly not getting out of diaper duty when we have kids,” she huffed. “For that matter, you’ve never told me why it is you need a _human_ mate.”

Ri’al wondered how best to explain. When he embarked on this adventure it had been a chore, an order he had silently protested with every fiber of his being. Now though, not even Cetanu could tear him from her. “Many seasons past, female Yaut’ja loose…what is word?”

“Right? Ability?”

“Sei-i, loose ability to birth pups. Healers try to fix. Cannot fix. Not know what problem. Many females go _u’sl-kwe,_ Last Hunt, choose to die. Not have pups is most bad thing to Yaut’ja. Some female healers say find other species, try breed. Oomans much like Yaut’ja in blood. H’ko, not blood, deep in body.”

“DNA? That’s the code deep in cells that make up everything about us.”

“Sei-i. Ooman D-N-A like Yaut’ja. Need only small change. Ooman female then carry Yaut’ja pups. Only pups now.”

“Wow. I’m helping save your entire species? So what you’re telling me is that your… healers… are going to change my DNA so I can bear your pups? I had wondered how it would be possible for me to actually get pregnant by you. We’re not exactly taking about different races here. We’re from different planets!” She looked away for a moment. “I’d be lying if I said this doesn’t scare me, Ri’al. How much are they going to change me? I’m not going to grow mandibles like you, am I?” She ran a finger along one of his appendages and he made a playful grab for it with his tusks.

“H’ko. Change inside. Not outside. Still ooman. Still Ly’a.”

She gave him a wan smile. “I suppose that makes me feel a little bit better about it. When you told me you wanted me for breeding it terrified me. That, and the way you said I “belonged to you” like you were taking me as your slave or something. I couldn’t handle that, which is why I ran. There are things I haven’t told you yet. Things I need to tell you. When I was much younger, there was a man…” Ly’a told him her story then, leaving no parts out. She wanted, needed, him to understand where she was coming from. Why she felt certain things, behaved certain ways. If she’d still wanted to go home, this would have been the way to go about it. Ri’al was livid. She may have thought she’d seen him angry before, but it was nothing like the cold, calculating rage she could now see simmering under the surface. It was only her protestations against it that convinced him not to turn the ship around and make her step-father his newest trophy.

Ri’al felt hatred, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was hatred on behalf of another. Prey was never to be hated, for that would show weakness on the part of the hunter, however for this particular ooman male, he would make an exception. Prey was not to be tortured, but in this case he could imagine ways to make the pain last and last. Only Ly’a’s touch and voice soothed him. She told him that her mother would make sure the man paid, perhaps not in the very bloody way Ri’al would prefer, but that he would account for his wrongs. _Yes, the wrath of a bearer for her pup will be fitting punishment._ Ri’al could only hope Ly’a’s bearer was as vicious as a Yaut’ja.

Rape was virtually non-existent amongst Yaut’ja. Any male that attempted such a thing would find his throat and genitals removed for the effort. It was quite possibly the most damning crime a bad blood could commit. Ri’al’s female had been hurt, badly hurt, and if he could not destroy the one responsible for her suffering, he instead wished to cheer her in some other way. He thought of what he could give her, but nothing seemed appropriate. Nothing seemed… enough. At last he touched on something perfect. Pulling her close he whispered in her ear, “Wish to give gift to my mate. Next cycle visit new place.” Ly’a smiled widely, happiness once again shining in her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Predators etc.


End file.
